


i found love where it wasn't supposed to be

by kinneyb



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-01-25 14:20:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 37,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18576238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinneyb/pseuds/kinneyb
Summary: When Dean Fogg asks Eliot to do something for him (watch over the new student, Quentin Coldwater), he agrees. It seems like a good idea at the time; Fogg promises him perfect scores in all his classes as compensation. But Quentin Coldwater turns out to be a handful, specifically an ex-Hedge Witch with more problems than Eliot can count.





	1. meeting;

**Author's Note:**

> this takes place around s1 except everything is different literally everything  
> ★ please follow me on twitter @ queermight & check out my pinned tweet! ★

Eliot wanted to go back to the cottage - curl up on the couch with a good movie and a strong drink, the kind that burns your tongue. Maybe he would've asked Margo for company, and her - being the good best friend she was - would've rolled her eyes fondly and said yes. But no, apparently Dean Fogg needed to see him - said it was about something important.

So he showed up at his office after class. He knocked once, a quick tap of his knuckles, before opening the door. Henry was sitting at his desk, sipping from a glass of - 

"Whiskey?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Henry sighed heavily, shoulders slumping. He placed the glass on his desk with a quiet _clank_. "Please," he said, gesturing to the empty chair opposite his desk. "Have a seat." His eyes sparkled with just the faintest trace of amusement. "By the way, knocking is kind of useless when you don't wait for a reply."

Eliot sat, crossing his ankles. He nodded briefly. "Yes, sir," he replied dryly.

"Mr. Waugh," Henry began, before pausing. "Eliot," he corrected, "I have a job for you."

_Oh._

Eliot had been expecting many things - maybe some backlash from the party he threw the other day, or the exam he simply didn't bother showing up for, but definitely not this. He was, admittedly, a little curious.

"Like a... project of some kind?"

Henry pursed his lips and picked up his whiskey again, sloshing the liquid around a bit before taking a sip. "Not exactly," he answered finally. "This would have nothing to do with your grade. This would be... off the records."

"Okay," Eliot replied slowly. "You're not about to ask me to kill someone, are you?"

Henry laughed sharply. "No, no," he cleared his throat, putting his glass back on the desk. He seemed to be considering something. Finally, he pushed the glass across the smooth wood surface. Eliot lifted both eyebrows - but hey, alcohol was alcohol, _especially_ free alcohol.

He grabbed the glass and took a gulp. His throat welcomed the familiar burn.

"I want you to... keep an eye on someone for me," Henry said after a moment. "Simple enough, right?"

Eliot finished the whiskey. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "Why me? If you haven't noticed, I'm not..." He gestured aimlessly. "Someone else would be better. Like Alice Quinn. She's a nice girl."

"Of course," Henry replied, "but I believe you," he smiled stiffly, "would be best suited for this job. If you're really not interested, though..."

Eliot rolled his eyes. "I didn't say that," he scoffed, waving his hand back and forth. "I'll do it. If you can answer one simple question. What's in it for me?"

"Perfect," Henry nodded and opened his desk drawer, pulling out a folder. "As for your payment," he said, slapping the folder down on his desk, "what do you want?"

Eliot stared at the folder - it was simple enough with no writing on the front. "Raise my grade," he said after a brief thought. "In all my classes."

"I..." Henry sighed deeply. "I can do that," he agreed eventually. "Though, you are a smart, powerful magician. I'm not sure why you don't just _try_."

Eliot shrugged, folding his arms across his chest. "Doesn't matter. Does it?"

Henry stared at him for a lingering moment. "'Suppose not," he replied, opening the folder. Eliot could barely see the image of a young man, and lots of writing. "This is the student you will be watching over," Henry turned the folder, pointing at the image. Eliot's eyes flickered to the top of the page - 

"Quentin Coldwater?" he asked.

His face wasn't so bad, to be fair - he was far from anything special, but cute. Kind of like a puppy. Eliot leaned back in his chair.

"I haven't seen him around before," he said.

Henry closed the folder. "He'll be joining us starting next week."

"But," Eliot furrowed his brows, "students never join between exams."

Henry nodded curtly and shoved the folder back in his desk. "Yes, well," he smiled politely. "Quentin is a special exception."

There was definitely something fishy going on with Fogg and this kid, but honestly... Eliot didn't care; the guy looked harmless enough - all he had to do was keep an eye on him, and for perfect grades across the board? Cha-ching.

"Whatever," he said. "You have a deal."

Henry extended his hand across the desk. Eliot rolled his eyes, but shook his hand anyway. "I will make some arrangements," Henry said. "He will be put with you and the others in the Physical Kids' Cottage."

"Right," Eliot said, throwing his bag over his shoulder. "Guess I'll see you later."

Henry smiled, and waved goodbye. Eliot left the room almost feeling guilty.

Perfect grades to watch some nerdy kid and keep him out of trouble? He was basically scamming the poor guy.

/

Quentin showed up Monday of the following week, a large duffel bag hanging off his shoulder. Eliot had kept some of the details, well, private, but he had explained the general gist to Margo and the other students.

She had seemed shocked, too, rightfully so, because - 

"A new kid? But the exams aren't for another three months."

Eliot had agreed with a shrug, a thoughtful look. "Maybe he's just special."

So when Quentin finally showed up, Margo basically met him at the door. Eliot knew that expression; she was painfully curious. To her, Quentin was a puzzle and she _hated_ puzzles.

Eliot watched from the sidelines; Margo tried working her magic, but the kid didn't look interested or impressed - which was unusual. He wondered briefly if he was gay. Then, Quentin promptly turned on his heels. "You must be Eliot Waugh," his expression was carefully neutral. "You're awfully disappointing," he continued after a moment, heading for the stairs, "given the way Henry talked about you."

He was so shocked he couldn't even reply. He just watched, blankly, as the kid ascended the stairs and disappeared around a corner.

Margo looked at him. "Oh my God," she slowly started to laugh. "He's hilarious."

Eliot glared at her. "He - that attitude does _not_ match that face."

"Fuck," Margo continued, clutching her sides. "The look on your face, El. I can't believe you just got your ass handed to you by that little thing."

Eliot huffed, turning away. "I'm getting a drink."

He would deal with Quentin, of course, but after he's had one or two - maybe three - drinks.

/

Eliot wasn't drunk, no, just happily buzzed. He climbed the stairs, ignoring Margo's giggles from the couch, and approached the room that would now be Quentin's. The room had previously belonged to a different student, but she had dropped out soon after being accepted - which was crazy in Eliot's opinion.

Who would ever drop out of a school for magic? Idiots. Maybe criminals.

Taking a deep breath, he reached up and rapped his knuckles against the wood. He could -  _smell_ something. He wrinkled his nose and decided, _fuck it_.

He opened the door, and paused when he saw Quentin on the bed, fingers moving quickly and efficiently. Which was fine, totally normal, except he was aiming a burning spell at his curtains and - 

Eliot jumped in the way. " _Stop_!"

Quentin sighed, dropping his hands. Eliot was lucky he hadn't continued or else he'd be rushing to the infirmary right now.

"Can I please ask why the fuck you were trying to catch your curtains on fire?"

Quentin hummed thoughtfully. "No."

"I - " Eliot breathed out, slowly. "I don't know what's going on, but this isn't just your home now. We all live here." He cleared his throat. "So please, free free to do your shit... anywhere but here."

Quentin chewed on the inside of his cheek. "I don't want to be here." He sighed, looking out the window. "And this _isn't_ my home."

"Okay," Eliot sat on the edge of the bed. "Okay, that's cool. Hey, we all had a hard time adjusting. You're not alone."

Quentin glared at Eliot with fire in his eyes. He flicked his wrist, and Eliot barely had time to do a protection spell before he collided with the wall. Groaning, he slowly sat up. When his eyes finally focused again, Quentin was standing over him. "Do not imply we are anything alike _ever_ again."

Then, he was gone. Eliot rubbed the back of his neck.

This was totally _not_ part of the deal.

/

"He's - violent!" Eliot exclaimed. "You did not include that in your little," he gestured wildly at his desk, "pamphlet."

Henry nodded slowly, clasping his hands together. "Right, well... he hadn't done anything like that in a while." He cleared his throat. "I assumed he had gotten over," he shrugged, "dealing with his emotions that way."

"D - dealing with his emotions?" Eliot scoffed. "He tried to set the cottage _on fire._ "

Henry sighed heavily. "I might've kept some... vital information from you."

"You think?" Eliot asked, crossing his arms.

Henry opened a drawer. Eliot wasn't surprised to see the folder again, but he was surprised when Henry placed it on the desk.

"Go on."

Eliot slowly stepped forward and picked the folder up off the desk.

"Quentin is - he's important," Henry said. "You mentioned the spell he did earlier - "

"Yeah," Eliot looked up. "That was some serious battle magic, and he didn't - " he paused, blinking a few times. "He didn't even _flinch_."

Henry nodded solemnly. "He's a strong boy, but as you know..."

"Magic comes from pain," he finished knowingly, opening the folder.

Henry cleared his throat. "The globe didn't find Quentin. I did, on my own. I saw him perform a spell, and it was," he laughed a little, "magnificent. He has real talent, but..."

Eliot flipped to a new page and paused when he saw the image of an arm covered in familiar markings. He gasped, breathless. "Fucking Hell, the kid's a Hedge Witch?"

"He isn't," Henry replied, " _anymore_."

Eliot closed the folder. "That doesn't mean he can just go around doing this kind of shit - "

"You're right," Henry interrupted. "I'll have a discussion with him, but please. He needs someone, Eliot, someone other than me. I can't - I can't relate in the way he needs. Please give him another chance." He smiled a bit, encouragingly. "Just one. That's all I'm asking for."

Eliot pursed his lips. "Fine," he tossed the folder back on the desk. " _One_."


	2. reading;

When Eliot returned to the cottage, he was happy to see Margo lounging on the couch, her feet thrown up on the table. He joined her without a second thought, sighing dramatically. She rolled her eyes - fondly, of course.

"Okay, love," she wrapped both her arms around him. "What's up?"

Eliot leaned his head on her chest. There was an odd dark purple stain on the ceiling he hoped was alcohol. "That new kid - he's a pain in the ass."

Margo hummed thoughtfully, petting his hair. "Well, it's not like you have to be his chaperone or some shit. Just ignore him."

Right. He hadn't told her the full story - Henry had said not to tell any teachers, sure, but he hadn't mentioned telling other students. Or Margo, and Margo was in a league of her own, anyway.

And _wildly_ trustworthy - he would know. She knew all his dirty, little secrets.

Biting his lip, he peered up at her. He laughed nervously. "I kind of do, though."

"What?" Her hand paused in his hair. "What haven't you told me, El?"

He sighed, adjusting on the couch to get comfortable. He toed his shoes off. "Dean Fogg asked me to watch over him, like I'm his fucking mom or something."

Margo raised an eyebrow. "And you said yes?"

"I wouldn't have," Eliot replied, taking her hand and rubbing little shapes in her palms. He shrugged. "But he said he'd compensate me by keep my grades up."

Margo laughed sharply. "Right, as if you couldn't do that all on your own." Leaning down, she kissed his forehead. "You make a conscious choice to fail, my dear."

He smiled a little. "God, you sound just like him." Shaking his head, he continued, "point is, I have to keep the kid out of trouble and you won't believe what he did earlier." He lowered his voice. "He tried to catch the cottage on fire."

"Ohhh," Margo, of all things, sounded _impressed -_ Eliot rolled his eyes. "So he's a bit of a firecracker," Margo poked him in the side. "No big deal. You're great at dealing with those types." She grinned. "Just look at me."

Eliot pouted playfully. "Not helping, Bambi."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better," Margo raised an eyebrow, "I haven't seen him this entire time. Must be hiding in his room."

Eliot slowly sat up. "Why," he sighed heavily, "do I have a feeling he isn't in his room?"

"But he went up there," Margo pointed to the stairs, "and hasn't come down..." she trailed off. "Oh, shit."

He jumped off the couch, shoving his feet back in his shoes. "I'll go check." Margo started to get up, too, but he quickly stopped her. "You don't have to. The little shit is, unfortunately, my responsibility."

She smiled. "I know," she stood up, adjusting her skirt primly, "but I'm curious."

Eliot laughed and walked to the stairs. Margo followed after him, her shoes making a familiar _click-clack_ noise as they ascended the stairs. Quentin's door was closed - he wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not.

He opened the door without warning and - 

"Fuck," Margo said, glancing over his shoulder. "The little shit really is gone."

/

"He might come back, okay?"

"If he does," she said, "I'll beat his ass."

Eliot laughed lightly, hugging her. " _Please_."

Closing the door behind him, he glanced around at all the open fields and school buildings and -

"Fuck my life," he muttered at the sky.

Shaking his head, he decided to start with the buildings first. The teachers looked at him curiously, but ultimately said anything. Maybe that was a new perk of working for Fogg. No more annoying professors needing answers to questions they shouldn't have in the first place. He searched every building high and low.

Finally, only the library was left. He almost debated not even checking - Quentin did _not_ seem like the fairy tale type, but he was desperate, okay?

So he opened the door a crack and scanned the area, eyes searching for any sign of - 

_Yes!_

Quentin was sitting in one of the large, plush chairs with a book in his lap. He seemed thoroughly engrossed in the story.

Eliot approached him quietly. Quentin didn't even look up, just squinted harder at the words on the page.

"Hey," he sat in the chair opposite him, resting his elbows on his knees. "Why the fuck did you disappear like that?"

Quentin's nose did a little twitch that, under much different circumstances, Eliot might've found cute. Endearing, at least. "Go away," he muttered, pulling his knees up to his chest. He adjusted the book on his knees and continued reading.

"No, no, no," Eliot reached over and snatched the book away. Quentin gasped and tried to grab it back, but he was too slow. He might've been strong, but not very fast. "You do not get to ignore me, you little - "

Quentin sat up straight, eyes on fire.

Eliot remembered that look from earlier and quickly put a hand up. "You can have the book back," he promised. "Just give me two minutes."

Quentin nodded slowly, leaning back in the large chair. "What do you want?" he asked, narrowing his eyes. "This is a library," he crossed his arms. "I can't possibly get in trouble for  _reading_."

"I - " Eliot shook his head and glanced down at the book - Fillory and Further: The World in the Walls. He smiled a little. "I'm not mad at you for reading," he continued after a moment, returning the book. "I just - you could've told someone you were running off."

Quentin hugged the book to his chest. He shrugged. "Why? You're acting like I'm a kid or something. I'm not much younger than you." He lifted an eyebrow. "And frankly, I'm much stronger."

"Okay," Eliot snorted because, _wow._ This wasn't going to be easy, huh? "You are," he agreed. "That's amazing, really, given you've never attended a proper magic school before."

Quentin looked genuinely shocked for just a moment. He lowered his voice. "You know?"

"What?" Eliot reached over, gently tapping the underside of Quentin's left arm. His shirt covered them, of course, but he knew. "About these?"

Quentin quickly pulled his arm back, out of Eliot's reach. "How?"

"I'm just smart like that," Eliot sighed airily. He stood up. "You coming back?"

Quentin gestured at the book still in his lap. "I - "

"You can take that with you, you know," Eliot interrupted. "You're a student here now."

Quentin looked up at him through long, dark eyelashes. He nodded mutely and stood up, hugging the book to his chest.

Eliot rolled his eyes. But really - standing there in a baggy sweater, cradling a book to his chest, Quentin almost looked... cute. _Innocent_. He shook his head and started for the door. Maybe, with _a lot_ of time and effort and understanding from both sides, they could make this arrangement, at the very least, tolerable.


	3. struggling;

"You give Eliot any more problems," Margo poked Quentin in the chest _hard_ , "and you'll have to deal with me, got it?"

Quentin raised both eyebrows, nodding mutely. He was still hugging the book to his chest, looking momentarily like a child being scolded by a parent.

"Now, Bambi," he interrupted warmly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Let the little one go upstairs and settle in."

Quentin quickly turned to glare at him, nose twitching with anger.

Eliot couldn't help smiling a little. "Go now, child," he said, waving him toward the stairs. He lowered his voice for the next part. "Because as little as she might be, Margo _is_ a force to be reckoned with, even for you."

"Fine," Quentin snapped, turning away. He huffed, stomping for the stairs.

Eliot waited until he heard Quentin open and slam his door before sighing heavily and slumping against Margo. She shook her head, rubbing his back.

"You are totally screwed," she said lovingly.

He laughed sharply. "I am _totally_ screwed," he agreed.

/

 Dealing with Quentin in general was exhausting, but dealing with him during school hours was -

 _Hell_.

"Fucking Hell," Eliot groaned loudly, kicking Quentin's door. "You're going to be late!"

He fished his phone out of his pocket. He wasn't so concerned about showing up for class on time - considering his deal with Henry would keep him above water, but Henry had contacted him the other day and very clearly expressed he wanted Quentin to do well in school.

["He didn't even attend high school," Henry had said, a sad look in his eyes.

Eliot had sighed because, _fuck_ , how could he say no? "Fine," he grumbled. "I'll make sure he gets to class and all that. But no promises he'll get good grades." He shrugged. "That's on him."]

Which, wouldn't have been a problem.

But the kid apparently _hated_ school and mornings.

He was just about to do a spell to unlock the door when finally Quentin made an appearance. He swung the door open and stood there. His hair, which was pretty long for a guy, was wild and unkempt, sticking up in odd angles. He had on a sweater two or three sizes too big and sweatpants.

Eliot slowly raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down. "You're wearing that?"

"Fuck you," Quentin spat, moving to close the door.

Eliot stuck his foot in the way. "No, no," he clicked his tongue. "You've gotta get to class."

"Not gonna happen," Quentin spoke slowly, dragging the words out. "Now kindly _fuck_ off."

He tried closing the door again. Eliot didn't budge, of course. He shook his head. "I'm not leaving," he smiled brightly, "until you're dressed and ready to go." Reaching out, he patted his shoulder once before pushing him far inside the room and closing the door. "Better move fast," Eliot called from the hall, "you don't want to get detention."

They didn't have detention - well, in the usual sense of the word, at least, but Quentin didn't need to know that.

/

Quentin opened the door again after about five minutes. He hadn't changed - he was still in the same sweater and sweatpants - but he had pulled his hair up in a messy bun. He also had a messenger bag. He somehow pulled the look off.

"Wanna take a picture?" Quentin asked, eyes sparkling with amusement.

Eliot blinked a few times. "I - " he cleared his throat, turning away. "Come on."

/

Eliot had originally been planning to just drop Quentin off and go on his merry way - 

but, after some thought, he decided to stick around for ten, maybe twenty, minutes. Just to make sure he didn't cause any trouble, which, of course, was inevitable. And happened within the first fifteen minutes.

"Mr. Coldwater?" the professor was some stuffy older woman Eliot could never remember the name of.

Quentin smiled cheerily, and _oh_ , Eliot knew that was smile was trouble instantly.

"Yes?" he asked politely.

The professor gestured to a small marble on her desk. "Would you like to come up here and show us your supposed talents?" She smiled, showing off crooked teeth. "Mr. Fogg has spoke wonders about you."

Eliot suddenly remembered why he didn't like her - she was kind of a bitch. He watched as Quentin stood up and walked to the front of the classroom.

But surely, the kid wasn't so dumb as to do something in the middle of class, right?

Quentin stopped in front of the desk, eyeing the marble with mild interest. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked.

He actually sounded, well, interested. Eliot smiled a bit. Maybe he could be a good student, with some work and lots of patience.

"Oh, come now," the professor spoke airily. "If you're so gifted, why don't you just show us something?"

Eliot sat up a little straighter. He couldn't see Quentin's face, but his shoulders were most definitely tenser now.

"Okay," Quentin said after a moment, lifting his hand. Magic flowed from his fingertips like a stream, strangely controlled. Eliot was admittedly a little taken, watching with wide eyes. Henry hadn't been kidding; the kid _was_ gifted. With a gentle flick of his wrist, the marble flew off the table and started to spin lazily in the air.

It wasn't anything amazing, but Eliot smiled anyway.

"Oh," the professor sighed heavily. "I'm disappointed. I expected - "

Eliot glared at her. Seriously, what kind of professor talked like that? His attention quickly reverted back to Quentin, though. The marble was still in the air, spinning faster and faster, sparks flying. It was kind of beautiful, but - dangerous.

"You can stop now," the professor said, turning away.

Quentin turned just a bit, and now Eliot could see his face, nose scrunched up, eyebrows furrowed together. He looked - 

 _furious_.

Eliot stood up. "Quentin," he called from the back of the room.

The professor looked back over her shoulder. "Mr. Waugh, please - "

Quentin barely mumbled something - Eliot couldn't hear what it was; he was too far - and the marble began to make a terrible noise, like glass shattering. The entire class threw their hands up, covering their ears.

"Stop right now!" the professor barked.

Eliot scrambled to get to the front of the classroom. Closer, he could see Quentin's face better and he truly looked furious. Almost like he was in a trance.

"Quentin," he said softly. He put a hand on his shoulder, gentle but solid. "It's fine. You're at Brakebills. I'm here. Calm down."

Slowly, the noise stopped and the marble dropped to the floor.

The professor walked over, huffing. "You!" she pointed a finger at Quentin, red in the face.

Eliot gently pulled Quentin to his side. He relaxed visibly, taking a shaky breath. "Don't worry," he said dryly. "He's fine." Turning them away, he ignored her screams. "I'm taking him to Mr. Fogg's office," he said once they were at the door, looking back over his shoulder.

Apparently that was good enough for her. She nodded curtly. "Good."

Eliot turned away, rolling his eyes. _Fucking bitch._


	4. failing;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a gentle reminder u can follow me on twitter @ queermight if u want!!  
> i post about the magicians... a lot

"He - he didn't even look like he was in the room with us!" Eliot hissed quietly. Quentin was sitting in Henry's chair, boredly looking through his things.

Henry just sighed and turned his attention back to the taller boy.

"I told you," he said blandly. "He has some... problems."

Eliot laughed, low in his throat. " _I_ have problems," he corrected, touching a hand to his chest. "But I do not lose control in the middle of class and almost hurt people!"

Henry nodded. "That's why he's here," he said, confident. "He needs to learn to control his magic. If - " he cleared his throat. " _When_ he does, he's going to be insanely powerful."

"I can't argue that," Eliot retorted, crossing his arms. "But I'm starting to think this isn't going to work." He pursed his lips. "I was right: you should ask someone else. Someone who can... handle him better."

Henry frowned deeply. He suddenly looked much, much older. "Eliot," he said, soft. "I didn't pick you on a whim." He reached out, placing a firm but gentle hand on his shoulder. "I think you two could learn from each other."

"I..." Eliot glanced at Quentin; he was no longer shuffling through Henry's things. Just leaning back in the chair, staring up at the ceiling with glossy eyes. Was he—

_crying?_

Eliot looked away. "I can't," he muttered. "I'm sorry."

"I understand," Henry sighed, clasping his hands together behind his back. "I'll find someone else. Please, just keep watch over him for now."

Eliot nodded curtly. "Thank you." He looked at Quentin, clearing his throat. "Come on."

Quentin lowered his head. He raised an eyebrow. "You two done talking about me like I'm not in the room?"

"Quentin," Henry scolded gently. "Just go with him, okay?"

Quentin rolled his eyes, but stood up. "Fine." He pushed past Eliot, elbowing him in the side. Henry smiled tightly.

Eliot was so glad this torture was ending soon.

/

Alice Quinn was a nice girl. Smart, talented, pretty. Eliot wouldn't be surprised if Quentin even fell for her. When Henry told him she was taking his place, he should've been happy. He was relieved, kind of, but also strangely - 

 _disappointed_.

He, of course, knew he was being crazy. So he just pushed the feelings to the back of his mind and went to find Margo. She was always the best at distracting him, especially from stupid stuff like _feelings_.

"Here, darling," she said, filling his glass with a light pink liquid. "Drink up."

He smiled at her. They were on the couch, his laptop set up on the table with some horrible horror movie playing. They weren't really paying attention - it was just there as background noise.

"So Alice, hmm?" Margo took a sip of her own drink. She grinned like a shark. "She's super hot."

Eliot looked away. He shrugged lamely. "Really? I mean, she's okay."

"You're gay," Margo replied easily. She turned a bit, dropping her feet in his lap. "Well, mostly, so it's no wonder you can't appreciate her sexiness," she purred.

Usually Eliot found Margo's presence comforting - grounding, really.

But for once he wished he hadn't called her. She really was not helping. He glared at the computer screen just as someone got murdered. Violently. He didn't even flinch.

He took a slow sip of his drink. "I know it's stupid," he muttered, "but I - "

There was a sudden, loud knocking at the door. Eliot jumped, knocking Margo's feet out of his lap and spilling his drink all over the floor. "Fuck," he groaned, the alcohol soaking through his socks.

Margo giggled, placing her glass on the table. "I'll take care of it - go."

Eliot stood up and yanked his socks off, tossing them to the side. He leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Thanks."

When he opened the door, he was surprised to see Alice of all people standing there, wringing her hands nervously. She stood on her tiptoes and looked over his shoulder. "Umm," she smiled sheepishly. "Hi. I was, uh, wondering if Quentin had maybe... come here?"

Eliot raised an eyebrow, leaning against the door frame. "No," he answered slowly. "Why?"

Alice opened her mouth. Closed it. She stared at her feet. "I might have... lost him?"

"Lost...?" he laughed sharply. "He's not a _dog_."

Alice looked up. She smiled shakily. "I know, but we were studying and - and he said he needed to go the bathroom, but then he was gone for, like, thirty minutes and I went to check and... he was gone."

"You checked the library?" Eliot asked, narrowing his eyes.

She nodded mutely.

"Fuck."

He looked at Margo.

He didn't even have to say a word. She stopped cleaning and stood up. "Go on," she rolled her eyes fondly. "I'll be fine."

Eliot smiled, small but sincere. "Thank you, Bambi. I'll owe you." He grabbed a jacket. "You coming?" he asked Alice, but she lingered just long enough - 

Eliot glanced at Margo. He lifted an eyebrow knowingly.

"She could probably use some help."

Alice blushed, red as a beet. "But I should - "

"I'll call you when I find him," he interrupted. "Seriously. It's fine."

He was gone in seconds, disappearing around the curve of the sidewalk.

Alice slowly looked at Margo. "Do you... need some help?" she asked, chewing on her lip.

Margo smirked, tossing her a washcloth. "Sure."

/

The problem was Eliot had no clue where Quentin might be if not for the library. The kid had barely been there longer than a week. It wasn't like he had any secret spots yet. Probably. Hopefully. Eliot searched all the buildings, but came up with nothing. He was just about to give up and go find Henry for help when he heard two students talking - 

"Do you think he was, like, going to jump?"

"No way!"

"Maybe we should call someone."

"Wait," he called, chasing after them. He vaguely recognized one of them. "Kady, right?"

Kady narrowed her eyes, placing a hand on her hip. "Do I know you?"

"No, I - " Eliot ran his fingers through his hair roughly. "Listen, not important. What were you two just talking about?"

Kady scoffed, turning away.

"No, please," he grabbed her arm, gentle but firm. "You saw someone? Where?"

She yanked her arm away. "Listen, creep - "

" _Please_ ," he pleaded. "I'm looking for someone, and I think that might be him."

Slowly, her expression softened a bit. She looked at her friend for a moment before nodding and turning back. "There was some kid standing at Woof Fountain."

Eliot swallowed around the lump in his throat. _Fuck._


	5. fighting;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been having so much fun w/ this & we still have quite a few chapters to go... so i hope u guys continue to enjoy it too!!

Eliot wasn't a runner - he was fairly fit, sure, but running? _Not_ his thing. So when he finally could see Woof Fountain, Quentin standing on the ledge, he quickly skidded to a stop.

He gulped down air, his lungs burning.

"Quentin!" he exclaimed, and the other boy looked back over his shoulder.

He had his duffel bag with him, resting near his feet, which was weird, okay, but Eliot was a little too distracted by the whole ' _don't let this poor kid kill himself, you fucking idiot_ ' to think too much about the shoddy details.

Quentin narrowed his eyes and promptly looked away. "Why are you here?"

Eliot walked closer. "Get away from there," he said. "You're going get hurt."

"And?" Quentin snapped, spinning on his heels to face the taller boy. He stumbled a bit and Eliot reached out for him - instinctively, really. Quentin quickly balanced himself, though, and slapped his hands away. "Why the fuck are you here?" he repeated. "You wanted me out of your hair!" Quentin laughed sharply. "Well, fine."

"I..." Eliot stared at the murky water of Woof Fountain. "I'm sorry," he looked at Quentin, and, maybe for the first time, he understood why Henry said they could learn from each other. They were similar. Hurt, and hiding from the world behind a mask. "I'm not used to responsibility or - or caring for anyone," he continued, laughing a little. "Margo is basically my only real friend and she can fend for herself, as I'm sure you've learned by now."

Quentin's nose twitched. Even in such a short time, Eliot had learned a few things about him: his nose twitching, for one, usually meant he was thinking.

Which usually meant trouble, but right now he didn't think that was the case. Hopefully.

"And Dean Fogg had told me so much about you, Quentin, and I don't think I can help you the way he thinks I can."

Quentin looked away. "I don't need help," he replied tersely.

Eliot smiled weakly. "I think you really do."

"No!" Quentin stomped his foot. Thankfully, he didn't stumble. He looked back, eyes wet. "I need to go _back!_ "

Eliot stepped closer. His eyes flickered to the bag by his feet. "You're not... planning on jumping, are you?"

"What?" Quentin looked at the water, then back at Eliot. "Wait... is this a suicide..."

Eliot quickly reached out and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him away from the fountain and into his chest. "Thank fucking God," he laughed, breathless.

"Sorry," Quentin muttered. Eliot was shocked for the second time that day because did the little shit really just say _sorry?_   "I didn't know."

Eliot released his arm and stepped back. "It's okay," he said. "But that means... you were planning on leaving?" he frowned. "Just like that?"

Quentin looked at him like he was crazy, eyes wide. "Of course!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air and backing away. "I don't belong here. No one wants me here or - or _anywhere_ , but at least out there," he gestured wildly, "I had Julia."

"Julia?" Eliot furrowed his brows. Fogg had been very clear that Quentin had no family. "Who's that?"

Quentin looked away, crossing his arms. "My best friend," he mumbled quietly.

Eliot reached down and grabbed Quentin's bag. "Come on."

"What?" Quentin squeaked, grabbing for his bag. Eliot smiled a bit, tightening his grip - 

"Not happening," he singsonged lightly, turning away. "Come on," he repeated, softer.

Quentin huffed, but Eliot could hear his footsteps - hurried and loud - behind him. He walked them to the library and opened the door, stepping aside. Quentin looked at him, obviously confused but a little curious.

"Go on, little one," he gestured.

Quentin flipped him off as he walked by. Eliot laughed lightly, following after.

The library was mostly empty, as per usual - most students preferred to check their books out and take them back to their room. Eliot found Quentin's spot from last time and sat in one of the chairs, dropping the duffel bag on the floor.

Quentin slowly sat in the chair opposite him, curling his legs up under him.

"Tell me," Eliot said, leaning back in the chair.

Quentin narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"About your friend," Eliot specified gently. "Julia."

Quentin looked down at his forearm and -  _fuck -_ smiled, a real, genuine little thing that almost swept Eliot off his feet. He looked nice like that. Different, less harsh and more like the young man he was. "She's the only person I have. We've depended on each other for years, after... the incident," his nose twitched. "When Henry saw me doing that stupid spell, he pulled me aside and - and talked up this place. Like it would save me."

Eliot leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Quentin looked up briefly, before looking away again.

"Honestly, I'd been searching. For so long. For something -  _anything_ , and I thought maybe this was it. But then, I went to tell Julia... she's a magician, too, and he stopped me." Quentin laughed sharply. "Said no, no, I want _you_ to attend Brakebills. Not your friend."

Eliot frowned, suddenly furious at Fogg and the secrets he'd been keeping.

"I told him - let her show you. She can do this, too. But he said she wasn't good enough." He wiped at his eyes roughly. "That's stupid. You should see her. Julia is - she's amazing."

He looked up, and Eliot smiled weakly. "I'm sure."

"I told him to fuck off," Quentin laughed, wet. "But Julia is too fucking good, and she begged me to go - said I deserved this, but I don't and I'm constantly fucking everything up and she should be here, not me, and I want to go _home_."

He stopped for air, finally. Eliot was touched, honestly, that he had shared so much with him. "We all fuck things up," he said, warmly. "But those mistakes don't have to define us, Quentin."

Quentin peered up at him through his eyelashes. "That's easy for you to say."

Eliot took a deep breath. "I killed someone," he said, the words rushing out before he can think better of them. Quentin lifted his head properly now, staring at him. "It was - one of my bullies. He made my life a living Hell, so one day I saw him and there was this bus coming and I - I thought I was just making a stupid wish in my head. But then the bus crashed into him, and that's..." he looked down at his hands, "ironically when I realized I wasn't exactly normal."

Quentin blinked. Once, twice. Then he looked away. "That's..."

"A lot," Eliot laughed airily. "Yeah... I know. My point is - "

Quentin rolled his eyes. "If you're trying to tell me 'it gets better' - "

"I'm not," Eliot interrupted gently. "I'm trying to say... you're not alone here. I know we haven't exactly... gotten along," he shrugged one shoulder, "but I do think Dean Fogg is right about one thing: you do belong here."

Quentin looked at him, then down at his bag. "Okay," he said, surprisingly soft.

"So..." Eliot smirked, "I don't have to worry about you running off anymore, right?"

Quentin ran his tongue over his lips, slowly, like he was thinking and that'd be cool and all, but _fuck_ , Eliot felt a thrill at the sight and quickly looked away. "Okay," he repeated again, a little harsher. "But I don't want to be Alice's pet."

"Okay," Eliot raised an eyebrow. "So what do you want?"

Quentin shrugged. "Let me move back to the Cottage."

"I'll talk to Dean Fogg," Eliot replied, suppressing a smile. "See what I can do."

/

"Okay," Henry said, nodding curtly. "Done."

Eliot stood by the door. "Really?" he asked, walking closer. "Just like that?"

"I want Quentin to be happy," Henry continued easily. "I believe he'll thrive most if he's content with his surroundings, and the people around him. So he'll be under your care again, I presume?" He smiled politely. "Please let me know if you need anything else."

Eliot nodded slowly, and finally took a seat. "I'm glad you think that way," he said, clearing his throat. "Because I agree, which is why I don't think he should be chaperoned anymore."

Henry blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"He isn't a dog." Eliot swallowed around the nervous lump in his throat - because yes, he's Eliot Waugh, confident and cool, but he was also still a student and this was still his principal. "This whole thing," he gestured between them, "is just hurting him and making him feel ostracized."

Henry nodded, obviously deep in thought. "Okay," he said finally. "Maybe you're right." He looked down at his hands, clasped together on top of his desk. "I guess I was being a bit... overprotective."

"I'll be his _friend_ ," Eliot smiled, small and sincere. "As much as I can be."

Henry smiled back. "Right. Thank you."

"But... before I go," Eliot furrowed his brows, "can I ask something?"

Henry nodded, quickly. "Of course," he replied. "Anything."

"Why didn't you want Julia, too?" he asked, surprisingly confident despite his nerves.

Henry laughed a little, sheepish. "He told you, hm? She was talented, yes, but... nothing special. There are many people in the world with magic, Eliot - we can't take them all. It's simply impossible."

"Right, but... he can still see her, right?" Eliot smiled. "The way he talked..." he licked his lips, "sounded like he couldn't."

"That's - " Henry looked away. "I might have put a small enchantment on him."

Eliot breathed out through his nose, slowly. "What _kind_ of enchantment?"

"He can't leave the premises," Henry answered, like it was no big deal. He cleared his throat. "You've seen him. He's a wildcard - I couldn't risk him running off, making a mess of things. Or worse, disappearing."

Eliot's jaw tensed. "That -  _that_ needs to stop," he stood up. "Quentin is a _person_." Henry opened his mouth, but Eliot quickly continued, "I don't care what his personality is or what he's done or been through - he isn't going to improve and get better if he's treated like this. Remove it," he held his head high.

Henry stared at him for a long moment. "Okay," he nodded eventually. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, doing a quick, easy tut. Opening his eyes again, he smiled tightly. "Done."

"Good," Eliot smiled brightly. "I better get going, then. He's waiting for me."

Eliot was almost out the door when Henry spoke again, surprisingly soft.

"Thank you," he said. Eliot looked at him, eyebrows furrowed. "For caring." When he continued to look confused, Henry smiled, a little more sincere. "About him."

Eliot opened his mouth. Closed it. He didn't know what to say, so he simply left.

He didn't _care_. But a part of him, deep down, knew that was a big fucking lie. He hadn't wanted to care in the beginning, sure, but things were different now. Maybe. Just a little bit. Turning a corner, he saw Quentin waiting, leaning against a wall and boredly doing tiny spells in the palm of his hand.

He smiled, just a little. "You ready?" he asked.

Quentin looked up and dropped his hand to his side. He didn't smile, but his eyes sparkled with something akin to - 

_fondness?_

Eliot counted that as a win. Quentin pushed off from the wall and joined Eliot.

"Okay," Eliot's fingers twitched, like they wanted to do something _stupid_ , like reach out and take Quentin's hand. "Let's go home."


	6. hiding;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're kind of getting to the "meat" of the story...... i think y'all know where this is going

Alice showed up two days later, holding a bundle of books and looking - 

 _nervous_.

Eliot assumed at first she was there for Margo, but she quickly shook her head. Her eyes sparkled with something, though, and he smiled a bit. Margo had tried to play it cool, like always, but she was obviously smitten with the nerdy blonde girl. Eliot knew her too well for games like that.

"I'm actually here for Quentin," she said, smiling tightly.

Eliot raised an eyebrow. "Okay," he replied slowly, turning to the stairs. "Quentin!"

If a feeling like jealously settled deep in his stomach, he promptly ignored it - Quentin making friends was a _good_ thing.

After about five minutes, Quentin appeared at the top of the stairs. He stared at Eliot for a moment, before turning his attention to the other person in the room. His face immediately fell, and Alice apparently noticed because she visibly winced.

Eliot almost felt bad for her.

"Hi," she cleared her throat. "I was wondering if you could help me with something."

Quentin crossed his arms. He pointedly glanced at Eliot in way of pointing. "He can help you."

"I... yes," Alice smiled tightly again. "But I'd prefer your help."

Eliot rolled his eyes fondly. "Quentin. Come on. We discussed this. Play nice." He smiled at Alice, smooth and easy. "Please wait outside. He'll join you in a few."

She smiled, sincere, hugging her books to her chest. "Thank you," she whispered before disappearing through the door.

Eliot closed the door with his foot, already turning to face Quentin. "She's nice."

"She's annoying," Quentin replied blandly.

Eliot narrowed his eyes. "She probably just needs help with a project or something. Go."

Quentin rolled his eyes and stomped away. He reappeared a few minutes later, boots and jacket pulled on top of his pajamas. Eliot shook his head, smiling a bit. Quentin was becoming, ironically, quite predictable.

He flipped Eliot off as he trudged down the stairs. Eliot just laughed.

/

Eliot was admittedly a little surprised when Quentin didn't show up again until much, much later. He was fixing dinner. Margo was "helping" (which really just consisted of her trying his food and giving her very professional opinion).

"Q," Margo said. "Come, sit, help me criticize El's cooking."

Quentin stopped in the doorway. " _Q?_ " he asked, testing the letter out on his tongue.

"Don't mind her," Eliot said fondly. "She loves her nicknames."

Margo gasped dramatically. "As if you didn't come up with Bambi one day out of the blue." She grinned, leaning back in her chair. "I was so surprised, but flattered."

"Blame your big brown eyes," Eliot remarked, grinning back.

Quentin looked between them slowly. Eliot knew that look. He was out of his waters. He turned away from the stove and pointed at an empty chair with a spatula. Quentin nodded curtly and sat down.

"Sooo," Margo's eyes sparkled with interest. "Alice is a hottie, hm?"

Quentin stared at her like she was crazy. "I... guess?" his nose scrunched up - 

 _cutely_ , Eliot's mind supplied easily.

He swallowed thickly, turning back to the stove promptly.

"What did she need help with?" Margo hummed. Eliot knew Margo was the last person who cared about stuff like school and projects— she just wanted more info on her latest conquest.

Quentin quickly looked away. "Just some stupid," he gestured wildly, "...project."

Eliot looked back at him over his shoulder. That was - concerning.

Margo raised an eyebrow slowly. "Okay," she replied, dragging the word out. Shaking her head, brown curls falling in her face, she turned her attention to Eliot and smiled brightly. "Got anything for us to try yet?"

Eliot stared at Quentin for a second longer, before nodding. "Yes," he dipped a spoon in the sauce - his own special recipe - and walked over to Quentin, offering the spoon.

"Oh," Quentin blinked, but grabbed the spoon and took a sip. His eyes sparkled and he looked up. "Wow, that's actually good."

Eliot rolled his eyes, turning away. "I'm going to ignore that that was a backhanded compliment," he said, dipping the spoon in the sauce again for Margo. "And just say thank you."

/

Alice started to show up - a lot. Eliot was supposed to be happy; Quentin was making a friend, but he couldn't help feeling weird, a little off, whenever he saw them together.

He chalked that feeling up to the fact their friendship was... _concerning_. Alice was nice, but they fought a lot. Like every other day.

Eliot asked Margo, but she simply shrugged. She was sitting on the couch, painting her nails a pretty purple color. "Have you _met_ Quentin?" she said, smiling slyly. "He's not exactly a walk in the park."

"I - " Eliot opened his mouth, but stopped. She had a point. "I just think there's something... happening there," he choose his words carefully.

Margo looked up, pursing her lips. "Please," she replied easily. "She has me on the table - no offense to our little Q, but who'd pick him over me?"

"Oh, I don't know," Eliot hummed thoughtfully. "Me?"

Margo rolled her eyes. "Gay men don't count."

"Maybe she's straight," Eliot said, laughing sharply when Margo threw a pillow at him. "Okay, okay, fine," he calmed down, eyes sparkling. "Maybe I'm just - "

" _Jealous?_ " Margo supplied, smirking.

He glared at her. "I'm not jealous."

"Of course," Margo finished her nails, closing the bottle carefully. "If you're so worried, El, just ask him. Isn't that what you're trying to do - teach him how to be a normal functioning member of society?"

Eliot looked at her, eyes softening. "Yeah," he cleared his throat. "That's a good idea."

/

Eliot knocked on Quentin's door and took a sharp breath - be normal, don't act weird. Don't act jealous. Margo was totally talking our of her ass, anyway.

Eliot didn't get jealous - especially over stupid, impulsive boys like Quentin.

"Eliot?"

He blinked, eyes slowly focusing on Quentin, who was now standing in front of him, looking slightly impatient. "Oh," he cleared his throat. "I, uh - are you busy?"

"I..." Quentin shrugged lazily. "No?"

Eliot smiled politely. "Can I come in, then?"

For a second, Quentin looked like he was going to say no, fuck off. But ultimately, he stepped out of the way. Eliot entered his room - and promptly ignored the fact this was his first time really being in here, not under the pretense of immediate danger.

Quentin walked over to his bed and sat, books bouncing all around him. Eliot raised an eyebrow, almost teasingly, and Quentin huffed. "You said I should do well," he snapped. "Well, I'm trying."

"I know," Eliot joined him, putting a few inches between them. "You're doing good. Both at school, and uh..." he licked his lips, slow. "You're making friends, too, huh?"

Quentin scoffed, crossing his arms primly.

"You are, right?" Eliot asked, softer. "I mean, Alice has been asking for you all the time."

Quentin rolled his eyes. "She just wants my help - I don't think that counts as friends."

"Oh," Eliot looked away, feeling suddenly out of his element. "I thought... Oh. Well," he shrugged. "Friendship can bloom from some strange places. Margo might not have ever been my best friend if we hadn't been put together our first year. Now I can't imagine my life without her."

Quentin looked at him, oddly curious. "Really?"

"Yeah," he laughed lightly. "So what have you guys been doing?"

Quentin's expression shifted just like that. He stared at his feet. "Nothing important."

"I - " Eliot leaned forward, trying - and failing - to catch his eye. "Quentin, you know you can share anything with me. I wanna help you."

He laughed sharply. "Because Henry told you to."

"Q," he said, quiet, taking on Margo's new nickname with ease. "I told you; we ended that stupid agreement. Anything I do now is because I, for some inexplicable reason, think I'm _actually_ starting to like you."

Quentin stared at him for a lingering moment. "It's seriously nothing," he said. Then, he looked away. "I'm hungry."

Eliot sighed heavily. Apparently he wasn't getting the truth anytime soon. "Okay," he stood up. "I'll cook, but _only_ if you help." He extended a hand and raised an eyebrow.

Quentin rolled his eyes fondly and took it.

"That's the spirit," Eliot said, eyes sparkling as he pulled him off the bed. "Let's go destroy the kitchen, shall we?"


	7. feelings;

Eliot wasn't joking earlier - they truly _were_ making a mess of the kitchen. Margo walked in halfway through and looked around, raising both eyebrows and whistling.

"What the fuck happened here?" she asked.

Quentin was sitting at the table, attempting - and failing - to cut vegetables. "We're cooking," he answered easily, looking oddly proud of himself.

Eliot bit his bottom lip - an attempt to hide a smile - but Margo looked at him knowingly.

"Well," she said, plopping down in an empty chair. "You'll need a taste tester, hm?"

Eliot rolled his eyes fondly and went back to stirring the noodles. "Of course, Bambi," he said, smiling at her from over his shoulder. "Always."

She grinned toothily and pulled out her phone. After a moment of silence, though - 

"God, Quentin," she said, rolling her eyes. Eliot turned and watched as she stood up and circled the table. "Your hair is worse than a girl's," she chided softly, already pulling his hair up and out of the way. "It's getting _everywhere_."

Eliot watched as Margo ran her fingers through his hair once before gathering it together and slipping a hair tie off her wrist, tying it off in a low ponytail. Satisfied, she walked back around the table and sat again.

"There," she decided, "much better."

Which, okay, made sense—he was kind of getting hair everywhere, including in the food - but... _fuck_.

Eliot swallowed thickly and turned away. He looked really good with his hair pulled out of his face. He wondered briefly if he had a reason for keeping his hair so long.

"Thanks?" Quentin offered, unsure.

Margo laughed, kicking his leg under the table gently. "Don't worry," she winked. "You look good." She looked at the back of Eliot's head, eyes shimmering. "Doesn't he, El?"

He froze - Margo could be so evil, which was usually a quality Eliot admired and loved, but not so much right now. He turned and properly looked at Quentin. "You, uh - you do look good," he said as casually as possible. He quickly looked away. "The noodles are almost done."

/

Dinner was great - Eliot was in such a good mood he even left some behind for the other Physical Kids. Something he rarely did. After dinner, Margo went off, mentioning something about a date. Eliot raised an eyebrow, but she made a zipping motion over her lips and winked.

"Is she dating someone?" Quentin asked curiously.

Eliot laughed sharply. "I think she's courting Alice of all people." He shook her head. "You can't pick who you fell for."

Quentin nodded, oddly serious. "I think they'd make a good match."

He laughed again, softer. "I mean - surprisingly, I think you're onto something." He stood in the doorway for a moment. The Cottage was empty for the most part - everyone was out or in their room for the night. He chewed on his tongue, thinking. "Hey," he said suddenly.

Quentin looked up.

"Want to do something impulsive as shit?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Quentin licked his lips - slowly smiled, showing off his teeth. "Always," he replied easily.

"Awesome," he smiled. "We're going out."

"Out?" he asked, standing up.

Eliot smiled wider. "Just trust me, okay?"

Quentin hesitated for a second. "Okay."

/

They went out into the city - for Quentin, it was his first time being off campus for a little over a week. He walked slightly ahead of Eliot, breathing in the city air and sighing happily.

"This," he turned around, walking backwards, "I missed it."

He was beaming, eyes bright with life. Eliot decided even if his plan didn't go the way he planned, he was happy they did it - just to see Quentin like this.

Quentin turned back around. "So where are we going?" he asked.

Eliot sped up a little, walking at Quentin's pace now - he was starting to think maybe he'd read the mood wrong. Maybe this was a bad idea. "To see your friend," he said. "Julia, right?"

Quentin halted to a stop. "What?" he asked, looking at Eliot with wide eyes.

"Y - you want to see her, right?" Eliot asked; something heavy and warm settled low in his stomach. Embarrassment, maybe.

Quentin stared down at his feet with something akin to guilt, and _oh -_ suddenly Eliot felt lighter, better. He wasn't the problem here. He reached out and clamped a hand down on Quentin's shoulder.

"I'm sure she'll be happy to see you," he said, and it was the truth.

Quentin looked up through his bangs. "I know," he muttered. "That's the problem. She should be angry at me. But she isn't because she's too fucking good."

"Hey, you don't get to dictate a person's feelings," Eliot replied easily. "If she's happy for you, that's on her. And it's her real feelings - now hurry up and lead the way."

Quentin chewed on his lip thoughtfully. "Okay," he nodded eventually and started walking again. "Follow me."

/

Apparently Julia lived in a tiny little apartment - like _super_ tiny and not in a good area, either. Eliot followed Quentin closely until they got to her door and he knocked once, twice, then three times. He looked over his shoulder at Eliot, cheeks slightly flushed - probably from the cold air, and something else.

"It's our thing," he explained with a shrug. "For safety."

Eliot couldn't help smiling a little, nodding. "Good idea."

After about five minutes - Eliot was beginning to think she wasn't home - the door finally opened. Julia was, well, surprisingly not what Eliot had been imagining in his head - she wasn't very tall. She was thin, starkly pretty against the gross backdrop of their surroundings.

She looked at Eliot for a brief moment before her eyes dropped to Quentin and she broke out in a grin - sincere, too. She hugged Quentin with all her strength, burying her face in his shoulder.

Quentin laughed lightly and hugged her back, tucking his face in her hair.

Eliot almost felt like an outsider, but he was happy. He couldn't remember ever seeing Quentin this happy - content.

"I've missed you," Julia said, pulling away. Her eyes were wet. She looked up at Eliot again, smiling politely. "Who is this?"

Quentin bit his lip and gestured. "This is Eliot. He's, uh... a student at the school."

Julia hummed thoughtfully, thrusting a hand in Eliot's face. "Nice to meet you, Eliot."

He raised an eyebrow - surprised - but took her hand nevertheless. Her grip was firm, but gentle - a lot like her, he was assuming. "Likewise," he said, smiling kindly. "Quentin has told me a lot about you."

"I - " Quentin blushed, olive skin turning a dark shade of red and Eliot was, admittedly, a little jealous that he'd never made him blush like that.

But he quickly pushed that thought away because _no, thank you_.

Julia pulled her hand back and smiled, stepping to the side. "Come in. I'll make you guys some tea or something."

/

They stayed for a couple hours. Eventually though they had to go - Eliot wasn't surprised by Quentin's look of disappointment.

"We can visit again soon," he said, soft.

Quentin nodded, and hugged Julia _tight_. When they separated, Julia held up her notebook and smiled. "Thanks for the spells."

"Just don't go sharing them too much," Eliot replied, clearing his throat. "Please."

Julia's eyes sparkled, hugging the notebook to her chest. "I won't."

"I need to use the bathroom," Quentin said. "Then we can go."

Eliot watched as he disappeared down a hall. Then he realized - yikes, Julia was staring at him with mild contempt. "I - "

She put a hand up. "I don't hate you," she said, dropping the notebook on a table. "I just want to say one thing, okay?"

Eliot nodded mutely.

Taking a deep breath, she crossed her arms primly over her chest. "Quentin has had a hard life. All of us have, but he... he's gone through a lot of stuff, okay? I _won't -_ " she said, stern " - share his shit, so don't bother asking."

Eliot nodded again, curiosity burning under his skin.

"Just - " she smiled sadly. "Just take care of him, okay?"

Eliot looked down the hall. Quentin's face from earlier - adorned with a real, sincere smile - flashed through his mind. His stomach did a weird little flip. He cleared his throat. "I will," he answered. "If I'm being honest... I think he's actually kind of growing on me," he added, softer.

"Yeah," she laughed lightly. "He has a way of doing that."

Eliot opened his mouth, but he didn't get a chance to reply before Quentin came stumbling down the hall. He must've noticed something was off because he looked between Eliot and Julia curiously.

"What's going on?" he asked, shaking his hands dry.

Julia laughed sharply. "Nothing," she said, hugging him again. "Be safe."

Quentin hugged her back briefly before letting go. He glanced at Eliot - that same familiar fondness in his eyes. "Let's go home, I guess."

"Uh," Eliot swallowed thickly. "Yeah."


	8. protecting;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reminder u can follow me on twitter @ queermight  
> we can talk tm and my fics

They were becoming friends. Kind of.

Margo made fun of Eliot a lot, implying he wanted to be more. But he didn't - he was happy to be Quentin's friend. He needed one, even if he did have Julia.

He had even gotten Quentin to agree to attend the party they were throwing that night. A celebration of Margo passing one of her exams after weeks of literally no studying.

Even Eliot was envious of her -  _sometimes_.

He was busying himself with testing out some new drinks for the party when he heard it: shouts coming from outside. He stilled, listened harder. The shouting continued - increased actually. He placed his drink on the table and walked to the door.

Before he could even open it the door flew open of its own accord - well, not exactly: Margo stood on the other side, looking uncharacteristically frantic. 

"Bambi?" he asked, looking over her shoulder. There was a crowd of students and professors around the main building. His heart thumped loudly in his chest.

She swallowed audibly. "El, baby, you need to come with me, okay?"

Margo reached out and took his hand. He nodded mutely as she dragged him to the main building, joining the crowd. Finally, his brain started working again.

"Quentin!" he exclaimed. "Where is - "

She squeezed his hand again and began to pull them through the crowd. When she got to the top of the steps, a man stopped her. Eliot vaguely recognized him but he couldn't place his name.

"Sorry, miss, but you can't - "

Margo glared at him. "Get Dean Fogg now." She pushed Eliot in front of her. "I don't need through, but he does."

He hesitated, and probably would've said no if it'd been any other student but it wasn't: it was Margo and even grown men feared her. He disappeared inside the building and Margo looked at Eliot, eyes soft. "I'm sure he's okay, honey."

He nodded curtly. He's not sure he believed her, but he still appreciated the effort. He wanted to believe Quentin had changed - that he wouldn't do something stupid like injure another student or teacher but...

Eliot closed his eyes. Took a deep breath.

The door opened and Henry stepped out. He was injured - nothing serious, but his forehead was wrapped in gauze that was currently spotting with blood. Eliot swayed back and forth, feeling sick. Margo steadied him.

"I'm glad you're here," he said in way of a greeting. "We can't get him to calm down. Maybe you can."

Margo gently pushed him forward. "Go." He stared at her for just a second and she smiled, small but sincere. "I'll be fine."

His heart swelled briefly with love for her.

He nodded and turned away, following Henry inside the building and down a hall to a classroom Eliot hadn't seen in a while. Henry cleared his throat, looking vaguely uncomfortable, and opened the door. He could _hear_ him before he could see him: Quentin was in a corner of the room, surrounded by people.

He was -  _wailing_ , his body shaking with sobs. Alice stood off to the side. She looked like she wanted to help, but didn't know how.

Eliot took a shaky breath. It was hard to believe that was even Quentin.

"He won't stop!" a professor exclaimed as soon as he'd noticed Henry. "We might need to use something to knock him - "

Eliot's stomach flipped with something like anger. He didn't know what was going on, but no fucking way. He crossed the room in a few long strides. Alice startled when she noticed him and scurried even further out of the way.

Eliot pushed some people out of the way - teachers and students alike - and took the sobbing Quentin in his arms. He didn't react entirely well: he sobbed harder and pushed against Eliot's chest weakly, trying to squirm away. 

He hugged him tighter and spoke softly, "Quentin, you have to stop."

Quentin a few deep, shuddering breaths and hiccuped. His crying didn't stop - not even close - but it got a little less loud, a bit more subdued. Eliot pet his hair and cooed sweet nothings.

Alice stepped closer. "I'm so sorry."

He didn't know what she was apologizing for and - honestly? - he didn't really care. Not in this moment. He just wanted Quentin to calm down.

Henry joined them, clearing his throat. "I'll tell you everything when he's not..." his eyes flickered to Quentin.

Eliot nodded, holding him close even as his body shook violently with sobs. "Can we go?"

"Just let us put a proper protective charm on you both," he said, waving someone over. The woman did a few quick tuts with her fingers before nodding at Henry. He nodded back. "You two can go for now," he smiled tightly. "Please keep on eye on him."

Eliot nodded. He didn't have to tell him to do that - he was planning on it, anyway.

/

Quentin stopped crying a couple hours after they got home - yes, _hours_. Finally he passed out, literally, on the couch. Eliot sat on the floor and watched him for what was probably way too long but he was - 

worried.

Rightfully so.

Margo walked out of the kitchen and sat with him, handing him a steaming cup of tea. He almost laughed: since when they drink _tea?_

But he was weirdly grateful. He sipped the tea gingerly.

"Probably goes without saying," Margo reached out and tucked some hair behind Quentin's ear, "but I canceled the party." Eliot smiled just a little. She made her jokes but she was getting smitten with Quentin, too.

"Do you have any idea what happened?" he asked softly.

Margo pursed her lips - painted a pretty dark red - and shook her head. "I heard some kind of... thing came out of a mirror and attacked the kids, but I don't know much else." 

Eliot laughed wetly and leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. "Why do I have the dreadful feeling our little Q has something to do with that?"

She smiled tightly, nodding. "But he needs some rest first," she said after a long moment. "And you, too."

He looked over at her and smiled weakly. "I'll sleep down here."

Margo opened her mouth before promptly closing it - apparently not in the same for an argument. She stood up and left the room, coming back with an armful of blankets. She placed them on the floor. "I'll see you in the morning, baby."

He leaned up and kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks, Bambi."

He waited until she was gone to focus his attention back on Quentin. Even sleeping, he looked upset - eyebrows drawn together, wrinkles on his forehead that made him look much, much older. Eliot leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.

"Goodnight, Q."

/

Eliot woke up to the sound of gentle footsteps. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes and sat up. Quentin froze in the doorway, holding a plate.

He smiled, just a little.

"I'm sorry," Quentin said quietly. "I didn't - "

Eliot shook his head and waved him over. Quentin walked over and sat on the floor with him. "I'm not really hungry," he said, nodding at the plate, "but Margo told me to eat... she also said not to wake you, but..."

Eliot rolled his eyes and took half of the sandwich. Quentin just watched.

"Aren't you going to ask?"

Eliot shook his head. "After we eat."

Quentin slowly nodded, nibbling pitifully at his half. Eventually they finished - well, mostly, Quentin didn't look like he could stomach another bite, so Eliot simply set the plate aside and readjusted - now properly facing the other boy.

"What happened?"

Quentin swallowed thickly. "We - we tried to get in contact with Charlie but we think... we think we fucked up and let something else through."

Eliot raised an eyebrow. "We? Charlie?"

He looked away, biting his lip. "Charlie is Alice's brother."

Suddenly everything made sense, and Eliot wished it didn't. He took a sharp breath. "Fucking Hell, Quentin, why did you - "

Quentin glared at him, eyes flashing with anger. "She was upset because she lost someone important to her and I - I could relate with that, okay?" his bottom lip trembled, just a little. Eliot felt a pang in his chest. "She said she wanted _my_ help because I was so talented," he laughed wetly, "and now - "

Eliot reached out and touched his hand.

Quentin licked his lips. "No one died," he said, quiet. "But a few of the students and the professor... They were pretty badly - "

"Shh," Eliot interrupted softly. "Fogg will tell me all about that. Just... tell me one thing, okay?"

Quentin stared at him for a long moment. He nodded weakly.

Quentin didn't look anything like his usual self and it was _really_ fucking with him - he just wanted to wrap him up in a blanket and protect him, but he couldn't. He needed answers.

"What happened?" he asked.

Quentin blinked. Once, twice. "I told you - "

Eliot smiled sadly and squeezed his hand. "No, _before_ you came here." He stared at Quentin despite every part of him wanting to look away. "Why did you freak out like that in the classroom? That was - that was some major PTSD vibes, Q. I would know." He smiled again, shaky. "So tell me - everything."


	9. confessing;

Quentin looked away. Eliot didn't want to push him. So he waited patiently, counted the seconds in his head. Finally Quentin took a sharp breath.

"I've always been - " he seemed to consider his words carefully " - powerful."

Eliot nodded, encouragingly.

"When I was younger, I had... issues with anger. My parents didn't get it. They didn't understand how different we were: me, with magic - them, without." He smiled sadly. "One day my mom got angry at me and she - she kept saying I _broke_ things. That that's all my magic was good for."

Eliot swallowed thickly and reached over to grab Quentin's hand - instinctively. Quentin looked at him, eyes flashing with surprise, but he continued after a moment.

"I got so mad at them I wanted to - I don't know. Show them what magic could do." He laughed wetly. Eliot could see the tears gathering in his eyes, slow but steady. "I found this spell. It was supposed to let you contact the dead. My mom was always..." he closed his eyes: a few tears slipped out, running down his face.

Eliot's fingers twitched with the want to reach out and wipe them away.

"My mom was close with her mom and I thought she'd finally... see magic as something good." Quentin opened his eyes. He looked oddly dead inside—the sight sent shivers down Eliot's spine. "I did everything right. I thought, but I didn't - I didn't see my grandma. I saw something else. Someone else."

His nose twitched. He looked away and swallowed a sob.

"When I woke up, I was in the hospital and Julia was by my side. My - my house had apparently been destroyed. A fire, apparently... but I knew better. I told Julia what I'd seen, but she told me I was probably just - "

He choked on a sob and wiped at his eyes roughly. "That I was probably imagining things. That trauma could do that to a person."

Eliot leaned forward, ducking his head to catch Quentin's eye. "Quentin," he said softly. "What did you see today?"

Quentin took a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm not insane - I saw it again."

"I believe you," Eliot said easily. "But we have to tell someone. That's - that thing is dangerous. I don't want you - " he cleared his throat " - or anyone getting hurt."

Quentin nodded. "Okay," he whispered.

/

Quentin was back to his old self the next day when they went to Henry's office - all bite, sharp claws. Eliot was beginning to understand now, though, that he - like Eliot - wore that persona as a mask: a safety net.

He watched, almost fondly, as Quentin plopped in Henry's chair and crossed his arms.

"You - you've seen that thing before?" Henry asked. "Why am I just now learning of this?"

Eliot stepped up, then, placing a hand on the back of Quentin's - well, Henry's - chair. "It was years ago. He thought it was something his mind made up. It's _not_ his fault."

Henry took a sharp breath and leaned against his desk. "Yes, I suppose you're right, but... that just leaves us with more questions and still no answers." He turned around and looked at Quentin. Eliot's protective instincts kicked in, but he held back - at least for now. "Tell me the spell you used that night and every detail you can remember."

Quentin shrugged. He tried so hard to make the movement look casual - natural - but Eliot knew better. He slowly inched his hand forward, grasping Quentin's shoulder and squeezing, just a bit. Quentin leaned his head back to look up at him.

"I'm going to grab us some food, okay?" he smiled encouragingly. "I'll be right back."

They hadn't eaten all day - and despite Quentin insisting he wasn't hungry he needed food in his system. He pursed his lips. "Okay."

Eliot paused near Henry on his way out, lowering his voice. "We need to talk."

"I - " Henry cleared his throat. "Right, of course."

Eliot smiled at Quentin from over his shoulder and left.

/

Eliot came back with food later and he sat with Quentin on the floor as he scribbled down the spell and every - literally - detail he could remember from that night. Henry sat at his desk, signing papers mostly but occasionally watching them.

When Quentin was finished, he sighed dramatically and fell back on the floor. Eliot smiled just a hint. "My hand hurts," he muttered, holding it up in the air and flexing his fingers. "I can't remember the last time I wrote that much."

"Which is quite frankly pitiful," Eliot teased, gently poking him in the side with his foot. But then he leaned over and took his hand, muttering something under his breath.

Quentin watched, a little confused - 

"Oh," he breathed once Eliot was done, taking his hands away. "It feels - " he flexed his fingers again " - so much better."

Eliot smiled, patting his head fondly. "I might not be a healer, but I know a few things."

Quentin sat up. "That kind of stuff isn't taught a lot - out there," he smiled back, biting his lip. "Maybe you could teach me a thing or two."

"Sure," Eliot replied breezily, eyes sparkling.

Henry cleared his throat - both boys quickly looked up at him. "Eliot, you wanted to talk to me about something?" he raised an eyebrow. "In private?"

"Go," Eliot said, nodding his head in the direction of the door. "Let Margo know everything is okay for me, will you?"

Quentin stared at him for a moment, before finally nodding and getting up. Eliot watched him as he left, smiling fondly. Then, he turned to Henry - the smile falling from his face almost instantly. "Did you _know?_ " he asked, accusatory.

"About him having seen this figure before?" Henry grabbed a glass from his collection and poured himself a cup of whiskey. "Of course not."

Eliot stood up and snatched the glass from the desk before Henry could drink any, eyes flashing with anger. "No, you asshole," he hissed, "about his family."

"I - " Henry cleared his throat and sat back a bit. "Of course, but what does that - "

Eliot laughed once, sharply, and slammed the glass back on the table, some of the golden liquid splashing out over the corners. "You didn't think to tell me?" he continued, stepping back. "Fuck, I - I had no idea and I just - "

"I didn't think it was important," Henry replied breezily, picking the glass up.

Eliot stared at him. "Well, it _was_ ," he said after a moment, turning away. "Now unlike some people, I'm going to actually go be there for him." He closed the door halfway through Henry saying something.

/

Quentin was sitting on the couch with Margo when he returned, engrossed in conversation. Which was a little unusual for Margo. Eliot smiled fondly and sat on the table, lifting an eyebrow.

"Do tell," he said. "What are you two hens gossiping about?"

Margo flicked her hair out of her face. "Fillory and Further," she replied easily.

Eliot laughed a little. "My, my," he purred, leaning over to touch Margo's knee. "I didn't know you were a nerd, too, darling."

She rolled her eyes and lifted her feet, placing them in Eliot's lap. "There's a lot you still don't know about me," she teased but, well - they both knew that was a lie. They knew each other better than anyone.

Quentin leaned forward, and for the first time Eliot noticed just how worn down he looked - bags under his eyes, a little bit of scruff under his chin. Eliot smiled, small but sincere. "I know things are... crazy right now," he said, "but I wasn't joking, Q - " he laid a hand on Margo's leg " - you're not alone: you have both of us now."

Margo looked over at Quentin and frowned, rustling his hair gently. "Yeah," she agreed in that tone of voice that meant she was being sincere and kind of hated it, "he's right."

"I - " Quentin nodded, looking down. "I know." He shrugged weakly. "I just kind of wish..." his eyes flickered up then down again. "Never mind. Just - I'm gonna go get some rest, okay?"

Eliot watched, shoulders drooping, as Quentin got up and headed for the stairs.

"We have to do something," Eliot announced once he was gone.

Margo raised an eyebrow. "I mean, yeah, but it's not like we can just find Quentin's little mirror buddy and axe him."

He laughed just a little, patting her leg. "Sure, but I didn't mean that."

"Oh," Margo leaned forward, obviously interested. "I'm all in."

Eliot smiled, tilting his head. "You don't even know what I was gonna say."

Margo shrugged primly. "Doesn't matter," she reached out and tucked a curl behind his ear. "If it's going to help you - and Quentin - feel better, I'm in."

Not for the first time Eliot was reminded of why he loved Margo so much. He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips, brief and sweet. "Okay, so - "


	10. waiting;

"Are you guys sure you're not going to get, like, expelled for this?"

Eliot pushed her through the door. "We very well might, but frankly I don't care."

Margo hummed, closing the door behind them with a flick of her wrist. The lock clicked into place seconds later. "So this is Julia, hmm?" she circled Julia, narrowing her eyes. "You're pretty."

"Oh." Julia flushed, tucking some hair behind her ear. "Thank you?"

Margo laughed sharply and grabbed her hand, pulling her in the direction of the stairs. "Come, you'll sadly have to be sharing a room with me for the time being. Let's get you comfortable."

"Thank you, Bambi," Eliot called up the stairs. He plopped on the couch a few minutes later with a drink, sighing heavily. He didn't know how to fix this - any of it - but he knew one thing: he could make Quentin happier.

 _Baby steps,_ his mind supplied.

Smiling, he took a sip of his drink.

/

When he woke up the next morning, he found Quentin and Julia in the kitchen, eating and talking loudly - like old friends do. He smiled fondly and watched them for a minute. Eventually, though, Julia knocked her head in the direction of the door and Quentin turned.

His eyes sparkled. "You - "

Eliot waved him off. "No one can know she's here with us." He paused. "Not until I have a proper talk with Dean Fogg, at least."

Quentin stood up and nodded. "Okay, but can I - " he flushed down to his neck. "Can I, uh... hug you?"

"Ohh," Eliot raised an eyebrow, and ignored the way his heart squeezed in his chest.

Julia laughed, nudging Quentin forward. "I think that's a yes, dummy."

"Right, well - " Still blushing, Quentin stepped closer and slowly wrapped his arms around Eliot's waist. Eliot smiled, just a hint, and did the same. He rested his chin on Quentin's head. "Seriously, thank you."

Eliot rubbed his back gently. "It's the least I could do, and hopefully - " he looked at Julia " - after I talk with Fogg, you can properly move in."

Julia smiled, sincere and sweet. Eliot understood what Quentin loved about her: she was kind, but fierce. Kind of like Margo, but different. "Thank you," she said. "I don't care what happens. I just - especially after all this, I want to be here for him."

He nodded and pulled away, patting Quentin on the shoulder. "Please, make your guest feel at home. I need to get dressed and give a certain someone a piece of my mind." He winked. "Wish me luck."

Quentin nodded, and for once Eliot knew - with certainty - that that was fondness shining in his eyes. "Good luck."

He smiled. "Thank you, Q."

/

"You did _what?_ " Henry stared at him like he was crazy. "You can't just go bringing strangers - "

Eliot shrugged, picking at his nails primly. "Sorry, can't hear you over all the bullshit." He looked up. "You have completely uprooted Quentin - the least you can do is let his friend stay here, especially after this."

"But she's not - " Henry began weakly.

Eliot laughed, sharp. "She's _incredible_ ," he interrupted breezily. "And since when is Brakebills all about natural talent?" He raised an eyebrow. "I could barely do shit when I was given the exam, but I passed with flying colors." He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. "I'm starting to think I taste some thinly veiled sexism here, Dean Fogg."

Henry stiffened. "Fine," he grumbled. "She can stay - at least until we get this... situation properly handled. Maybe she can give you some answers, even."

"I can ask her," Eliot replied, already standing up. "But no more manipulating people on my end. If she doesn't want to tell me, I'll respect that."

Henry smiled, just a hint. "Okay," he nodded.

"Glad we're on the same page finally," Eliot smiled back, a bit sarcastic, a bit sincere.

/

Quentin was still hanging out with Julia when Eliot returned, smiling brightly. "Good news, kids," he said, patting them both on the head. "Julia can stay - for now, at least."

"Really?" Quentin looked up at him, eyes sparkling.

Eliot's heart did something funny -  _again_ , and he promptly ignored it. "Yes," he replied breezily. "But now I was wondering if maybe," he hesitated for just a second, "you could do something for me, Q?"

It was kind of a question. Kind of not.

Quentin smiled, a little unsure. "Okay," he nodded. "What is it?"

"Go," he said, nodding his head in the direction of the door. "See Alice. I think she needs a friend right now, too."

Julia ducked her head to look at Quentin, smiling warmly. "I'll go with you," she offered. Her eyes flickered up to Eliot, curious. "That's fine, right?"

"Yes!" Eliot exclaimed. Even better.

Quentin pursed his lips, obviously deep in thought. Finally, he sighed and nodded curtly. "Okay," he agreed. "You're right," he grumbled, standing up. "Come on, Jules. You can probably handle her better, anyway."

Julia laughed lightly and stood up, taking his hand. Eliot watched as they left, plopping down on the couch and sighing heavily. He put his feet up on the table, scrubbing at his face. Margo's laugh was like music to his ears.

"Where's our little Q, hmm?" she asked, joining him on the couch.

Eliot glanced at her, just barely. "Checking on Alice."

Margo whistled. "Amazing," she nodded. "I didn't think you'd actually convince him to go see her." She leaned back, dropping her feet in Eliot's lap. "Do you know someone named Kady?"

"Uh," Eliot laughed a little, sheepish. "Yeah. She's kind of the one who helped me find Quentin when he disappeared."

Margo hummed thoughtfully. "She asked me today if he was doing okay. Weird, right?" she giggled airily. "She never pegged me as the 'care about other people' type. Guess you really can't judge a book by its cover."

"I think our little Q," Eliot said, smirking, "has made a better impression than we thought."

Margo nodded. "So are we going to talk about... _it?_ "

Eliot stiffened, just a little. "Margo," he warned lightly.

"Come on," Margo wiggled her feet in his lap. "You like him, don't you?"

Eliot stared at his feet. "You like him, too," he argued weakly.

"Yes," Margo agreed, surprisingly soft, "but you _like_ him."

He sighed heavily. "I don't think he's - " he ran a hand through his hair " - I don't think any of us are in a place right now to be thinking about shit like _feelings_ and _crushes_. Not when there's a literal shadowy monster out there stalking Q."

Margo slowly slipped her feet out of his lap. "So what I'm hearing is you _do_ have feelings for him?" she asked, soft but teasing.

He shrugged, a quick jerk of his shoulders. "So what if I do? I'm not acting on them."

"I understand," Margo replied, gently touching his arm. "But don't you always say life is unfair?" she smiled. "That when you finally think things are going good, something bad is always just around the corner?"

Eliot laughed, sharp. "So you're agreeing with me?"

"Hardly," Margo said, pinching his arm. "I'm saying you can't wait for the right moment because it will never come, El - you just have to go for it."

Eliot swallowed thickly. "After we figure things out," he mumbled quietly.

"Okay," Margo removed her hand, smiling tightly. "Just know I'll support you when you do. And that Quentin would be lucky to have you. Never doubt that."

Eliot leaned over and kissed her, brief and sweet. "Thank you, Bambi," he whispered.

Margo smiled warmly, tucking a curl behind his ear. "Anytime, babe."


	11. thriving;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chap ends on a cliffhanger... oops  
> also sorry my updating has been all over the place!! please stick w me

Eliot was surprised, but happy that Alice joined the group so easily. She apologized to Quentin about the whole thing. Admitted she was wrong - Eliot always had to respect a person who could do that.

Then she apologized to Eliot and Margo, too. _That_ was the surprising part.

Margo just smiled, looking like a predator eyeing its prey. "It's fine, darling. I get it. Family is complicated. We've all been there."

"I - " Alice laughed softly, wringing her hands. "Yeah. I hope you can forgive me, too," she faced Eliot, eyes so terribly earnest. "I know you care about Quentin and I used him, and that's not something a few words can - "

Eliot reached out, clamping a hand down on her shoulder. "Bambi is, unfortunately, right. Family is complicated. You cared for your brother and wanted him back. No one can fault you for _that_."

Alice seemed genuinely surprised, but grateful. She smiled, just a hint.

"Okay," Julia threw open the door and walked in. Quentin followed behind her like a duckling. "I did not know a school for magic would be so much like... school," she blanched. "I think I need a drink. Or five."

Alice laughed lightly, and joined the pair. "I can help you study," she offered, blushing just a little.

Eliot watched as Julia gasped and grabbed her hands. "Really?" she asked. "You're a goddess, miss Alice Quinn."

"Hardly," Alice squeaked. "But thank you."

He couldn't help feeling oddly fond of their little group - protective, even. Margo joined his side and hummed contently.

"We can do this," she said, all confidence and sureness. "I don't care who that little shadowy fuck thinks he is, he's coming after the wrong people."

Eliot laughed, sharp but sincere. He reached out and took Margo's hand, squeezing. Quentin looked so - _happy_ , laughing with the two girls. He almost couldn't remember how scared he'd been a few days ago during Quentin's breakdown. "I'm not usually one for optimism," he replied finally, "but I think you might be right."

/

Things were finally looking up when they - inevitably - went to shit again. Eliot heard about the incident and was at Woof Fountain in minutes, panting and searching the area for - 

"Quentin," he sighed, grabbing the shorter man by his neck and pulling him into a hug. He stood there for a lingering moment, burying his face in Quentin's hair. "Thank God you're okay."

Finally, he pulled back and focused on the victim - a guy named Penny. He was friends with Kady if Eliot remembered correctly. He was sitting up, at least. But he was surrounded by a ton of medics and Professor Lipson, too.

"He - he jumped in front of the knife," Quentin whispered. "I don't even know him."

He sounded so _shocked_. Like the idea of doing something like that for someone you don't know was completely incomprehensible. Eliot smiled sadly and ran his fingers through his hair.

After a while, Penny was taken to the clinic. Quentin stood there for a long moment, staring at the blood splatters on the concrete. Eventually someone came and washed them away, though.

"How about you go get some rest?" Eliot offered, softly. "Maybe we can visit him later?"

Quentin looked up and nodded. "Right," he said. "Okay."

/

The man who stabbed Penny, who had indeed - Penny confirmed - been aiming for Quentin, was captured. Henry said he would take care of the situation, and for once Eliot believed him.

If only because he was too tired to take care of the situation himself. He went back to the cottage and explained everything to Margo and Julia.

"I've seen him around," Margo said thoughtfully. "He has this, like, bad boy thing going for him but truthfully I always pegged him as kind of a softie."

Eliot smiled just a little. Quentin had disappeared upstairs for a nap.

"I think the whole thing has Quentin kind of... shaken up," he said, quietly. "I think visiting him would be a good idea." Eliot glanced between the two girls. "Would you like to - "

Julia threw a hand in the air. "Go with? Yes, totally."

Eliot laughed, once.

"What can I say?" she continued, shrugging. "Anyone who saves Quentin is good in my book."

Margo reached out and patted Eliot's knee lovingly. "I'll go, too, of course."

/

Penny was, well, exactly how Margo described - he pretended to be a bad boy as soon as they entered the room, stoic and snarky.

"You're not very convincing," Eliot drawled, standing near Quentin, who was sitting on one of the hospital beds, legs swinging back and forth. "I mean, you took a knife for our boy."

Quentin nodded curtly. "Thank you," he said.

Penny rolled his eyes, but grimaced from the pain almost instantly. " _Fuck_."

"Here," Julia said, adjusting his pillow. Penny smiled politely.

Quentin jumped off the bed. "Can I ask something?"

"I couldn't stop you if I wanted to," Penny replied breezily.

Quentin nodded, looking almost adorably earnest. Like Penny's reply hadn't been a thinly veiled insult. Eliot's heart squeezed with fondness.

"Why did you do it?" he asked, staring at Penny. "I don't even know you."

Penny looked sincerely caught off guard. He cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter. "I saw a dude with a knife coming at you," he explained, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I didn't even think - it was... instinctual."

"Oh," Quentin nodded slowly. He looked as if he was truly absorbing the information. Then, he sat on the edge of Penny's bed. Eliot watched fondly as Quentin found Penny's hand and squeezed. "Thank you," he said, surprisingly serious.

Penny seemed - shocked, to say the least. But Eliot could see it: the warmth growing in his eyes. And he could relate - despite all his problems... Quentin just had a way of getting under your skin.

"Uh," he cleared his throat and looked away. "Right. Whatever. It's no big deal."

Eliot decided he liked Penny, too.

/

Penny, thankfully, got better and he, too, started visiting the cottage a lot. Henry told Eliot behind closed doors that the man who'd stabbed Penny was, well, dead - he tried to attack one of the professors and the rest was history. But that he had acted... _weird_ , and mentioned Quentin's name more than once.

Eliot was terrified, of course, but he couldn't do much with such little information, so he made a point of not telling Quentin. Not yet, at least. He was finally thriving - he didn't want to do anything to mess with that.

He was an idiot, though - blinded by his own selfish wants and emotions - and he paid for it the day that _thing_ showed up at the cottage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also yes took the penny getting stabbed thing from the show but didn't rly focus on the whole... magical blade thing


	12. sacrificing;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a quick lil update for y'all bc i'm v happy w how this chap turned out... mwah
> 
> ALSO TW FOR MENTION OF SUICIDE

Eliot should've known better, to be fair - a few of the Physical Kids were fucking around with mirror magic, but it was innocent enough spells. Low level stuff. Quentin had joined them after a few minutes, asking questions and practicing the spells on his own - he was talented, but he still had a lot to learn.

He sat on the couch with Margo, and surprisingly Penny, too.

"He's a dick," Penny said suddenly. He didn't need to specify who.

Eliot grinned and leaned back, wrapping an arm around Margo - she smiled and and leaned against his side. "Well, yes," he agreed breezily. "But he's kind of endearing, too, isn't he?"

"Sure," Penny rolled his eyes, but he was smirking. "He has strong as fuck mental wards, but sometimes he lets them down just to be a dick and get Taylor Swift of all fucking things stuck in my head."

Margo laughed sharply. "That's our boy," she said, looking up at Eliot warmly.

"Count your blessings," Eliot assured him. "At least you don't live with him - sometimes he blasts it in his room and double spell locks the door."

Penny looked away, but Eliot could tell he was stifling a laugh by the way his shoulders shook. He grinned, feeling good, and looked back at Quentin. He was doing some kind of spell over the mirror, tongue sticking out from between his lips as he focused.

"Don't fuck it up!" Margo called out at the last second, laughing when Quentin nearly dropped the mirror.

"Margo," he whined, glaring at her.

She grinned, shrugging. "Oops. Sorry, babe."

Quentin looked back at the mirror and that's when he saw it: a beautiful blue moth, large and fluttering its wings, on the handle of the mirror. Dangerously close to his fingers. He swallowed thickly.

"G - guys," he whispered.

Eliot slipped to the edge of the couch. "What is it, Q?"

"We need - we need to - "

He couldn't find his words. He scrambled to his feet and threw the mirror, the glass shattering. Eliot jumped up seconds later. He had a pretty good idea what was happening and if it was a false alarm, well, who cared? It was better to be safe than sorry, right?

"Everyone, _out!_ " he yelled, even going as far as to do a quick spell to heighten his voice.

A few students looked at him like he was crazy, but he _was_ Eliot and so, with confused chattering, they stood up and piled out of the cottage. Quentin stood in the middle of the room, trembling. Eliot grabbed his arm and tugged him.

"Margo, Penny, we need to - "

The door to the cottage slammed shut with a resounding bang, and Eliot cursed loudly, tugging Quentin against his chest.

"What is - " Penny tried to stand up, but he was quickly threw back down on the couch. None too gently, either.

Slowly, more and more moths filled the room, swirling in the air. Eliot didn't know what to do. He hoped one of the students would be smart enough to get help, but. He couldn't count on that, and he couldn't possibly protect three people, even if he was a talented magician for his age.

"Penny, Margo," he said, quiet. "Protect each other, okay? I've got Quentin."

Margo made a noise like protesting, and he looked at her. They stared at each other for a short moment that somehow felt like hours. Finally, she nodded and grasped Penny's hand, squeezing. Penny finally seemed to be getting with the program. He swallowed thickly and squeezed Margo's hand back.

Finally, the moths settled in one spot - over a bland grey suit - forming a face with the insects. Quentin made something akin to a whimper, low in his throat, and it was so unlike him to be so scared so openly, which just. Made Eliot want to protect him even more, his heart thumping loudly in his chest.

"Quentin, Quentin," a voice called out from the moths, sounding... _amused_ of all things. Eliot frowned deeply and pushed Quentin further behind him, taking a protective stance. "You managed to make friends this time," the voice continued breezily. "I'm impressed, and - " he looked at Eliot - well, as much as a face made of moths could look. "Such strong ones, too."

"Q," Margo said, quiet. "What the fuck is he talking about?"

Quentin placed a hand on Eliot's arm, like he needed the physical contact. "I - I don't know."

Lowering her voice, Margo asked Penny, "can't you, you know, travel us?"

He swallowed thickly. "I don't - I haven't perfected traveling with other people."

The mysterious figure sighed loudly, and suddenly Penny was gagging and choking and Eliot turned on his heels, watching with wide, scared eyes. He was scratching at his neck violently, blood catching under his fingernails, and before Eliot could do anything Quentin was at his side, grabbing his wrists.

"Stop, Penny, _stop_ ," he said, surprisingly calm, voice unwavering.

He slowly turned back to the mysterious figure, wishing he knew where to look to make eye contact but it was all just moths. Moths, moths and more moths. "What do you want?" he asked, hoping he sounded half as in control as Quentin because truthfully he was losing his shit. "Why are you after Quentin?"

"Doesn't matter," the figure replied flippantly, and with a flick of his wrist, Margo was gagging, too. Eliot's heart squeezed - he wanted to turn and help, but. He didn't - he stood his ground, hands shaking. "I can feel it coming off you," he continued, slowly stepping closer. "You would die protecting him."

Eliot flushed, but he didn't move and certainly didn't argue because, well, it was probably the truth. He would die for Quentin. Margo, too, but Quentin was different - they hadn't known each other even half as long.

"It's almost cute," the figure said, voice hitching in a weird way, like he was amused and maybe a touch disappointed. "But it's also inconvenient. So I'm sorry," he raised his hand, and Eliot barely had time to think huh, he has a sixth finger before he was choking, too, and the pain - the pain was almost blinding. "You have to die, too."

Quentin made a loud sound - almost like a howl, like an injured wolf calling for help. "Please!" he scrambled off the couch, looking at Eliot and then back at Margo and Penny. "Please. I'll - I'll do whatever you want. Don't hurt them."

The figure hummed thoughtfully. "Okay," he said, but he didn't let up. "Kill yourself."

Quentin's breath caught in his throat. "I - what?"

"You heard me," the man said, breezily. "You're who I'm after. Kill yourself, and this will all be over. I'll let them all go." He didn't have a face, but through the pain Eliot couldn't help thinking if he did, he'd probably be smiling right now. An evil, ugly thing. "And you better decide fast - that one," he knocked his head made of moths in Penny's direction, "won't last much longer."

Eliot's stomach flipped painfully. He swallowed thickly, and barely managed to speak through the force crushing his throat.

"Quentin, please -  _please_ _don't_."

But he looked at Eliot and his expression slowly shifted - going from scared to disturbingly calm. He glanced back at the moth man and nodded curtly. "Fine," his voice wobbled just a bit. "If you promise to spare them."

"Of course," the man replied, and he sounded like a snake if Eliot's ever heard one.

Eliot could feel something running down his face - it took him an embarrassing amount of time to realize he was crying. "Q, Q, Q," he chanted like a prayer, gasping through the pain. "Please, don't do - "

His throat closed up more, pain exploding behind his eyes.

Eliot watched as Quentin lifted his hands, trembling, to do a spell. His heart thumped loudly. No, no, no, he knew that spell - he'd thought about using it on himself when he was younger and gay and bullied and his father hated him for it. He couldn't talk anymore; his throat completely closed up.

Please, God, Eliot closed his eyes. I don't think I believe in you, but please if you're real, please don't let this happen. _Please_.

The sound of wood splitting and Eliot's eyes shot open - through the door Kady jumped out, hands raised in the universal stance for battle magic and suddenly Eliot loved her despite barely knowing her.

She barely glanced at the four of them before her expression hardened and she blast out some powerful battle magic at the mysterious figure, who actually seemed shocked by the development. Eliot hoped beyond hope that Kady was somehow powerful enough to properly scare the guy off.

He stumbled back a few stops, and the magic - spell? - choking Eliot wavered enough for him to break free. He immediately jumped to Quentin's side, grabbing his wrists and squeezing. "You fucking - "

Kady continued to shoot off battle magic, and she yelled, "fucking help, idiots!"

Quentin joined her, helping to back the man into a corner. Eliot crouched down and pressed his thumb against Margo's throat, his thumb glowing a beautiful gold for the briefest of seconds. "You go?" he asked, searching her eyes.

She smiled weakly, clearing her throat. "Just peachy."

Then, he turned and did the same to Penny, who seemed - shocked by the physical contact, but he didn't pull away.

"You're both going to be okay," he said. "There's no lingering damage."

Then, Kady and Quentin were yelling something and Eliot spun on his heels. The mysterious figure was gone, a couple moths lingering in the air. Kady shot them down without a second thought and then stomped on them to be sure. Eliot would've smiled if he wasn't still so fucking terrified.

"I - " he looked at Kady. "Thank you."

She shook her head and ran to Penny's side, looking him over.

Eliot didn't say anything else. He crossed the room and took Quentin in his arms, resting his chin on top his head. He shook - from fear, maybe, but mostly anger. "I can't - " he spoke quietly, almost directly in Quentin's ear. "Do not ever try and do something stupid like that again, do you hear me?"

"I was - " Quentin's voice wobbled. "I was trying to help."

Eliot squeezed him tighter. "Well, don't," he chided softly. "We would've figured something else out - something that didn't involve you sacrificing yourself like a dummy," he pulled back and cupped Quentin's face, and he was hit with the sudden urge to just. Lean in and kiss him, his whole body yearning for it. "I can't - I can't lose you, Q, okay?"

He nodded meekly. "I don't want to lose you, either," he replied, quiet as a mouse, eyes almost watering.

Eliot rubbed his back in slow, comforting circles. He leaned forward and kissed his forehead. "You won't."


	13. hoping;

Quentin sat in the infirmary with everyone else. Professor Lipson checked him over, once, then twice, before stepping back and glancing at Eliot. "He's going to be just fine," she said before moving to the next person in line - Margo.

He slowly slid off the hospital bed, plastic crinkling, and joined Eliot on the bench. Margo was going to be okay, too, apparently, so for the first time since the incident Eliot felt like he could truly relax, the tensions draining from his shoulders.

"I'm..." Quentin stared down at his hands. "I'm sorry."

Eliot firmly shook his head. "You have nothing to be sorry for," he replied easily. "You didn't do any of this."

"But I - " Quentin cleared his throat. "I started it..." he swallowed thickly. "All those years ago, I did something stupid and I don't know what I released, but it's - it's that _thing_ and now everyone is - "

Eliot recognized an oncoming panic attack when he saw/heard one. Gently, he wrapped an arm around Quentin. "You didn't know," he chided softly. "Now please, take a deep breath." He waited for Quentin do just that. Then, he smiled as Margo joined them, somehow looking as beautiful as ever despite the circumstances.

"Lunch," they said at the same time.

Quentin just blinked.

/

When they arrived back at the cottage, Quentin hesitated before following them through the front door. He was surprised to see everyone - all the people he knew at Brakebills, at least - sitting around.

"What's... going on?" he asked, glancing at Margo.

She just patted his shoulder and joined Eliot at the staircase. He clapped his hands together. "As we all know, our little Q here," he gestured at Quentin, "is being targeted by some... vicious moth man."

Quentin slowly took a seat beside Julia, who immediately took his hand and squeezed.

"You are all people who have someway wormed your way into his life," Margo continued breezily. "For better or worse you're all involved, so fucking act it."

He glanced around at all the people. He knew most of them well enough. Like Alice, who was sitting at the window, a book in her lap. Penny, who was leaning against one of the bookshelves with a woman - Kady; Quentin didn't really know much about her, but they seemed to be dating. Or something.

"Honestly - "

Before Eliot could say anything else, Quentin stood up abruptly enough Julia startled. "I don't know... many of you very well," he said, eyes darting around the room almost nervously, "but I... I've never had friends before," he flushed. "And I do consider you all that, I - I think."

He looked down at Julia, who smiled encouragingly.

Taking a sharp breath, he looked up again. "I can't say this is a choice, really, because that thing... I think will go after you if it thinks there's any chance of getting to me," Quentin frowned deeply. "But still. If - if you don't want to be a part of this, I understand."

This time, he glanced at Eliot.

Eliot smiled sadly, eyes warm, and nodded. Margo didn't look as happy with the development, but she didn't interrupt.

"So if you want to leave and never talk to the rest of us again," Quentin continued after a moment, "no one will blame you."

Penny pushed off from the bookshelf and for a moment Quentin thought he was leaving, which - surprisingly stung. But then he stopped in front of Quentin, Kady lingering to his side. "I respect that," he said, expression carefully neutral.

"I - " Quentin nodded curtly. "Thanks?"

Then, he smirked and nudged Kady, who nudged him back with a smile that made her eyes sparkle. Quentin almost felt like he was intruding.

"So we're staying," Kady answered for them both. "If only because hey, excitement."

Quentin slowly smiled, looking away. "Okay," he agreed, nodding.

They ate lunch after that, and Eliot was genuinely surprised by how much their little group... worked. Penny and Kady got along shockingly well with Julia, laughing and making fun of Quentin - all in good fun.

Alice and Margo was hitting it off as well as ever. They were so different, but somehow they made sense, too.

"Eliot," Quentin whispered halfway through lunch, tugging his shirt to get his attention. "Can I - can I say something kind of crazy?"

He put his glass down and smiled sincerely at him. "Of course."

"Um. Is it bad that, like, um..." Quentin started, biting his bottom lip in a way that made Eliot's stomach flip, "despite everything this is the happiest I think I've ever been?"

Eliot blinked, surprised by the confession but well - he understood because he was weirdly happy, too, given the immediate danger looming over them. He found Quentin's hand under the table and squeezed. "No," he said, confident. "I am, too."

"Okay," Quentin breathed, smiling a bit as he looked away.

/

Eliot sat in Henry's office, listening with mild interest he explained... something.

"So... you're saying the Beast - we're seriously calling it that now? - is from... another world?" he asked once he was done talking.

Henry let out a deep breath and grabbed— _another_ —bottle from behind him and filled up his glass. He didn't even bother to offer Eliot one this time. Rude. "Yes, and you... you said you'd seen Quentin reading these books from the library, correct?"

"I - " Eliot thought back to Quentin's growing obsession with those silly books. He smiled just a bit, fondly. "Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?"

Henry took a large gulp of his whiskey and didn't even flinch. Eliot was almost impressed. "We believe the Beast is from Fillory." He paused for a moment before adding, "the world written - "

Eliot threw a hand up. "Yeah, no, I read the first book," he interrupted. "Which is why I'm gonna have to say I think you might be a little _too_ drunk, Fogg. It's... it's a not a real place. It doesn't even have a proper magic system." He slowly lowered his hand. "It's just a fairy tale for kids who know nothing about real magic."

"Yes," Henry sighed heavily and placed his glass back on the table. "That's what we wanted to believe, too, but..."

Eliot narrowed his eyes. "But?" he prompted impatiently.

"There's a simple spell," Henry started, clearing his throat. "You have to be a fairly powerful magician, but... the actual fundamentals are quite simple."

Eliot nodded slowly.

"Using a mirror, you can view another world. But only if it's real, and if it doesn't and you made a miscalculation..." he trailed off.

Eliot's nose twitched. "Okay," he said. "So you did that and now you're telling me... Fillory is real?" he laughed airily. "That's still - I need proof."

"Magic is rarely about proof," Henry replied breezily, but he turned away and opened one of his drawers anyway. When Eliot saw the mirror in his hand, he stiffened instinctively.

"I'm not sure - " _this is a good idea_.

Henry just smiled and placed the mirror on the desk between them. "Please, I am not an amateur." With a sharp breath, he raised both hands over the mirror and did a few simple tuts - just like he'd said. He recited a spell under his breath. The glass of the mirror flickered a few times before shifting to the image of a forest.

Eliot blinked because - "fucking hell, you weren't kidding."

Then, he saw it: a moth in the mirror that looked oddly familiar. He swallowed thickly.

"Yes," Henry answered despite the absence of a question, stopping the spell and then promptly smashing the mirror. Eliot startled a bit. "That moth looks a lot like the one we all keep seeing with the Beast, does it not?"

Eliot nodded mutely.

"We don't know what to do with this information just yet," Henry continued. "But we hope it will help us in the future."

Eliot licked his lips, slow. "I - I don't... why did you guys even consider Fillory as a possibility?"

"Well," Henry smiled, a little sad. "Quentin is not the only one who's read the books."


	14. planning;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw i think it's rly important i make a disclaimer that this is completely separate from the canon of the show... im incorporating aspects of course but there's a lot of creative differences im going to make just so it's easier for me and not entirely predictable
> 
> so please keep that in mind if things dont mimic the show entirely

Eliot sat across from Quentin at the table - a beautiful, large breakfast filling the space between them. Quentin looked at him curiously, a little skeptical.

“Is - is everything okay?”

Eliot smiled brightly, on the edge of fake, and pushed a plate of pancakes toward Quentin. Quentin stared at the pancakes, mouth almost watering.

“Fine,” he grumbled, picking up a fork. He stuffed a bite of pancake in his mouth, “you get a pass - for the moment.”

Eliot smiled, a bit more sincere, and picked up a piece of bacon, eating the slice lazily as he watched Quentin fondly.

Quentin was almost done when Eliot finally spoke, “those books…”

He looked up, licking syrup from his lips.

“Uhh, Fillory and Further, right?” Eliot asked as casually as possible, but his legs were shaking under the table.

Quentin swallowed loudly. “Uh… yeah,” he answered, a little sheepish. Then, his eyes seemed to widen. “What - did you want to borrow them?”

He waved his hand back and forth in the air. “Not exactly. I was just… curious.” Quentin nodded slowly, furrowing his brows. “Did you… read them when you were younger or?”

“Oh!” Quentin shook his head. “Kind of, once - when I was much younger. But I didn’t finish the series,” he laughed lightly, scratching his cheek. "I was kind of... distracted with other stuff."

Eliot nodded slowly, suddenly not hungry anymore. He pulled his glass of juice closer and sighed. “Fogg seems to be under the impression our… moth man is from… Fillory.”

Quentin looked up, lips glistening with syrup. Eliot swallowed thickly and looked down at his empty plate. “He - he does?” he asked, disbelieving. “That’s… insane, right?”

"I... thought so," Eliot agreed quietly, shrugging. "But then he showed me proof."

Quentin leaned across the table, nearly getting syrup on his shirt. Eliot chided him softly, and he leaned back again. "What do you mean - proof?"

"I can show you," Eliot answered without thinking. Because he was a talented magician, too, and he even had the benefit of knowing Fillory was real. "After," he said, smirking a little, "you finish breakfast."

Quentin pouted, but went back to his pancakes.

/

"Wow," Quentin sat back on Eliot's bed, tingling with excitement - the knowledge of a whole other world. "This is, like, insane even for magic."

Eliot nodded, and smashed the mirror for good measure - just like Henry. "It is," he agreed easily. "I never considered... other worlds. That's so much more than just magic."

"But why?" Quentin asked, furrowing his brows. He glared at his feet. "Why is some sociopath from Fillory of all places following me?"

Eliot shrugged, pressing up against Quentin's side in what he hoped was a comforting, but friendly gesture. Nothing more, but - but then Quentin turned, and their faces were so close, and Eliot's heart thumped loudly in his chest. Because he could kiss him - so easily - and he wanted to. More than anything.

Quentin opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but he didn't - say anything, that is, just stared at Eliot.

"I - " Eliot swallowed thickly. "We'll get that motherfucker, okay?"

Quentin laughed airily, and Eliot felt their hands brush on the bed between them. His fingers twitched, wanting more.

"I'm not used to believing in things," Quentin admitted, looking away. He doesn't move, though, which Eliot takes as a good sign. "When Henry told me about you, he said you were a pessimist - that you never saw the good in things."

Eliot nodded slowly, but he didn't say anything, afraid of interrupting the moment.

"But the truth is he's wrong," Quentin looked back, nose twitching. He looked - nervous. "You're not - you believe in the people around you even when we don't deserve it. Margo, me... Just because you're not shitting rainbows doesn't mean you're pessimistic."

Eliot smiled almost sheepishly. "Thanks?"

"I am, though," Quentin continued, eyes impossibly soft. "I've never believed that my life would be - okay. I thought I'd just push through and eventually die. But since meeting you, and Margo and Alice and just - everyone, I actually can't help thinking maybe... maybe things will be okay."

Eliot felt his heart squeeze with fondness he's only ever felt for Margo - before now, at least. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around Quentin. "They will be," he said, confident. "We'll take this fucker down and you," he pulled back, "will finally get your chance at a normal boring school life."

Quentin smiled, just a hint. "I don't think this place could ever be boring."

"Hmm," Eliot hummed, searching Quentin's eyes - bright with life despite all the shit weighing them down. "Maybe you're right."

/

"Fillory... is real?" Margo laughed in disbelief, turning to look at Quentin. "Fucking Hell."

Penny just lifted an eyebrow. "This is fucking weird," he commented, but he didn't move - Eliot had found, with time, that he was mostly talk. Kady, however, was not. But she was surprisingly nice under all that hard -  _hard -_ armor.

"Truthfully," Eliot said from his spot at the center of the room, hands on his hips, "I don't think Fogg is being honest."

Alice cleared her throat. "So you don't think Fillory is real or?"

"Oh, it's real," Eliot replied breezily, dropping his hands. "We both - " he gestured between himself and Quentin " - saw it, but I think he's holding back a lot of other shit and at this point we're better off on your own."

Margo hummed thoughtfully, her feet nicely perched in Quentin's lap, who surprisingly looked okay with it. "And what exactly do you expect us to do?"

"Find Fillory," Quentin answered before Eliot could. "Take the Beast down ourselves."

Eliot just nodded, pointing at Quentin. "What he said," he agreed.

"That's..." Kady sat up a little straighter. "You guys are literally insane."

"I - I'm up for it!" Julia exclaimed from her spot on the floor in front of the couch. She leaned her head back against Quentin's thigh and grinned up at him, eyes sparkling.

Kady rolled her eyes and stood up, pulling Penny with her. "Yeah, well, we don't have a death wish." She started to walk to the door - Eliot blocked her path, hands lifted in mock surrender. "Move out of the way."

He smiled, mustering up all his charm. "Kady, we really need you," he said, "you're the best at battle magic."

"I'll lend you guys a few books I have on battle magic," she replied breezily. "But that's it."

Eliot slumped a little, but stepped out of the way. "Okay," he sighed. "Thanks."

/

"Okay, Quentin," Eliot said. "Tell us what you've got."

He looked between all the faces staring up at him, clearing his throat. "I don't know what will and won't be helpful," he muttered. "The series is... long, and I'm pretty sure a lot of information is missing."

Alice stood up, smiling kindly, and took to his side. "I've read the books, too."

"So have I," Margo said, picking at her nails.

Eliot gaped, looking between the three. Then, down at Julia. "Have you?"

"Yes," she admitted sheepishly.

Eliot groaned loudly, dropping his head back on the couch. "So I'm the hindrance here?"

"No, no," Quentin scrambled to join him on the couch. "I can - I can tell you everything tonight," he nodded quickly. "Then, we can regroup tomorrow."

Alice picked up her bag from the floor. "That doesn't sound like a bad idea, actually." She smiled, small but sincere. "I think after tonight, we all need some rest. It's not everyday you find out a whole other world exists."

Eliot sighed lightly. "Okay," he agreed tiredly. "Let's do that."

/

The next day everyone gathered back in the living room. They all looked... better, though still exhausted and Eliot couldn't exactly blame them.

"So first order of business," Eliot said. "We need to find a way to Fillory."

Quentin chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully - an action Eliot still found much too distracting given the situation. He looked away. "Well, in the books the Chatwins always just go through a clock but - "

"It probably won't be so easy for us," Alice nodded, crossing her arms primly. "But there's no other way to Fillory in the books. Fillory has to want to let you find it."

Margo took a sip of her drink. "That mirror trick you guys did," she licked her lips, "can you do it again?"

Eliot blinked. Once, twice. "I mean, yeah," he glanced around. "I just need a - a mirror. But why?"

"I have an idea," Margo said as she jumped off the couch gracefully. "Get the mirror, boys."


	15. adventuring;

They all sat around the mirror, waiting and watching. Margo hummed thoughtfully and squinted at the mirror. "I'm about to do something," she looked at Eliot pointedly, "do not freak out."

Eliot furrowed his brows. "Uh, can't promise - "

He gasped when Margo reached out and poked the mirror. "Bambi!" he hissed, but nothing happened. "Thank God," he whispered. "I don't know the details of the spell," he continued, glaring at Margo. "You could've just had your finger - amputated or something!"

Margo rolled her eyes, poking at the mirror insistently. "Okay, so that doesn't work."

"Uh..." Quentin cleared his throat. "So humans can't pass through, but the Beast can?"

Margo sat back. "I don't know," she shrugged. "I doubt he's human, though." Turning around, she grabbed a cup from off the table behind her and threw it at the mirror. Eliot made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat, but the mirror didn't break - the cup went through, appearing on the other side, on the grassy ground of Fillory.

"Oh," Eliot said, eyes wide. "That just... happened."

Margo hummed delightfully. "That's helpful," she beamed.

"I'm not sure how this newfound information is helpful, exactly," Alice muttered, but she was watching the mirror with interest.

"Fillory only opens up for you when it wants you there, right?" Margo stood up and dusted off her skirt, walking to the kitchen. When she reappeared, she was holding a large bucket of water. "Usually you'd think that means one thing," she set the bucket down and did a few, sharp tuts. "That Ember and Umber want you there for, I don't know, good reasons?"

Eliot stared up at her. "Bambi, I love you... but your point?"

"Let's make such a big ruckus they call us there," Margo stated simply, knocking the bucket over. Water flowed out of the bucket and into the mirror, splashing onto the other side. Quentin scrambled closer to watch. "I put a never ending spell on it," she explained proudly. "Once their world is - oh, I don't know - almost flooded, maybe they'll zap up there or something. For a fun little chat."

Eliot thought it sounded like a terrible idea frankly but - 

"Do you think this'll work?" he asked Quentin.

He looked up, shrugging. "Honestly, they might just zap up there and kill us on the spot."

Margo dropped back to the floor. "Guess we'll just have to wait and see," she said breezily. Reaching out, she patted Eliot's leg and grinned like a shark. "Oh, come on, don't be such a baby - it's unfitting for you."

/

After a while, Margo got bored and stood up. Unsurprisingly, Eliot thought fondly, she never was good at waiting. "I'm going to make us some food," she ruffled Quentin's hair as she walked to the kitchen. "Don't go disappearing to a new magical world without me."

A few minutes later, the door to the cottage slammed open and everyone startled, Alice especially. Eliot was terrified it'd be the Beast or maybe even Henry, but it was -

"Penny?" Eliot asked, disbelieving. "Kady?"

Kady stood to Penny's left, arms crossed firmly over her chest. Penny cleared his throat, looking terribly out of his element. "We want to help," he said.

"Oh." Eliot blinked a few times. "Well, uh..."

Quentin sat up straighter. "Okay," he said, nodding. "You might want to sit - we have a lot of explaining to do."

Stepping forward, Kady raised both eyebrows at the scene before her - water pouring endlessly into a mirror could do that to a person. "Tell me it has something to do with that."

He smiled sheepishly. "Yes?"

"Okay, fine," Kady nudged Penny with her elbow. "Maybe this will be fun."

/

"Hey," Julia said once they'd explained the situation. "Where's Margo?"

Eliot sat up and looked toward the kitchen. "I know she's a bad cook," he said lightly, "but you're right - it's been way too long." Standing up, he smiled brightly. "Continue talking amongst yourselves. I'll go check on her."

Once he was gone, Quentin quickly noticed Alice staring at him - but no, it wasn't just her. Penny was, too, and Kady. Julia wasn't, but she was smiling. Quentin narrowed his eyes, smoothing his hair down almost self-consciously. "What?" he snapped. "We should be - discussing this," he gestured wildly at the mirror and bucket.

"You're both so obvious," Kady said, eyes sparkling with amusement. She nudged Penny. "Isn't he so obvious?"

Penny opened his mouth, closed it. "I'm not sticking my shit where it doesn't belong," he said eventually.

"What - " Quentin looked at Alice. "What are they talking about?"

Alice smiled, just a hint. It was a little sad, but mostly fond, which just confused Quentin more. "It's nothing, Quentin."

Before he could say anything else, Eliot ran back into the room. "Okay," he said, smiling sheepishly. "We've got a problem."

/

The problem? Margo was, well, missing.

"But the only way to and from the kitchen is that door," Alice commented, pointing for good measure. "We would've seen her if she left, right?"

Eliot leaned against the counter, tapping his foot impatiently. "Yes," he replied dryly. "Thank you for the obvious, Alice."

"I - " Alice frowned deeply, turning away. "I'm only trying to help," she muttered quietly.

Quentin - standing by Eliot - reached out and touched his arm, squeezing gently. "Eliot," he said, eyes uncharacteristically soft. "I know you're freaking out, but - "

"I know!" Eliot snapped, taking a sharp breath. "Just... we need to find her." Quentin's hand dropped from his arm, frowning deeply. "Q," Eliot continued after a moment, quiet. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean - "

"Uh," Kady's voice carried from a few feet away where she'd been searching with Penny. "I think I found her." She opened the door to the pantry. "Kind of."

Eliot rushed to her side. "What the fuck?" Quentin joined him a few seconds later - Alice and Julia, too. The pantry was, well, far from their usual boring pantry. The door opened up to a large, green field blooming sunflowers - all damp and drooping from Margo's little trick. "Okay," he swallowed thickly. "Who put a spell on our pantry?"

"Um," Julia said, raising an eyebrow. "I don't think this is a spell. By one of us, at least."

Eliot stared at her for a long moment. "You think this is - "

"Yes," she answered breezily.

Kady shrugged, already stepping through the portal. Eliot made a sound in the back of his throat, but it was too late - she was out of sight. Penny joined her quickly, and Alice followed after that. Then Julia.

"God, this is probably so dangerous," Eliot said but when he looked at Quentin he was smiling, eyes sparkling with the promise of an adventure. "Ready to go?"

/

They found Margo after a few minutes of searching. She was deep in the forest, examining a very questionable looking mushroom. "Wow," she stood up when they found her, placing her hands on her hips. "Took you guys long enough."

Eliot grabbed her in a tight, almost painful hug. "You should've told us," he scolded gently, but she just smirked up at him. "Right," he muttered, stepping back. "So I guess your little prank worked, somehow." He looked around boredly. "So what now?"

"We should probably find Ember and Umber," Quentin piped up from his spot at the back of the group. "Because uh... they're probably not happy with us right now, and I think it'd be best to... not have two literal Gods on our bad side when we face the Beast." He shrugged. "Just a suggestion."

Eliot snapped his fingers. "Good idea."

"The water flow seems to have stopped," Alice commented after they'd been walking for a while. "I guess Ember and Umber closed off the mirror portal."

Kady hummed, picking at her nails as they walked. Somehow she never walked into anything - Eliot was impressed, really.

"I knew they would," Margo replied easily. "But they'd still be pissed, right, Q?" she asked, nudging him with her elbow.

Quentin nodded quickly. "They are known for being... temperamental," he made a face, "and not very forgiving, either."

"And you think they'll forgive us?" Penny asked, sounding almost genuinely curious.

Quentin shrugged. "Honestly, don't know? But I think it's worth a shot."

"Agreed," Eliot replied, ruffling Quentin's hair. "I trust our little Q's instincts."

Quentin smiled a bit sheepishly. "Thanks, El," he mumbled quietly.

Margo took to the front of the group like a natural. "Mission: find Ember and Umber and gain their forgiveness. Even if that involves an ass and a sharp stick." For good measure, she crouched and picked up a large, surprisingly sharp stick, grinning like a shark. Quentin couldn't help thinking even as a God he would fear her.


	16. discovering;

They'd been walking for nearly two hours - "God, my feet are killing me," Margo whined, pulling off her heels.

Eliot rolled his eyes as she handed him her heels. "You'll be fine, Bambi, sweetie," he assured her, eyes sparkling with amusement. "Actually," with a quick flick of his wrist, a pair of red and white sneakers appeared on her feet - socks included. "There," he grinned, tossing her heels to the side. "Problem solved."

"I - " Margo made a face. "I never thought I'd say this, but you should be charged for a crime against fashion, El."

But, Eliot noted gleefully, she didn't take them off.

"Maybe we should go back," Alice said timidly. "We've been gone for so long. Someone might come looking for us."

Quentin glanced back at her. "Time works differently here, remember?"

She opened her mouth. Closed it. "Right," she smiled sheepishly.

"So where exactly are we headed?" Kady asked, stepping over a large root sticking up from the ground. Penny tripped on it, but quickly righted himself. Kady snorted. "You do have a particular place in mind, right?"

Quentin nodded, glancing at Margo. She sighed lightly. "Ember and Umber's Temple," she explained, flapping her hand in the air. "It's supposed to be somewhere deep in the forest, beyond where normal beings would dare to venture."

"Oh," Penny said dryly, "that doesn't sound foreboding at all."

Quentin smiled a bit. "The Temple can only be found if - "

"It wants to be?" Kady finished knowingly, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah, we got that part already."

He shrugged and looked away.

/

Everything went to shit the moment they reached the end of the forest, however. Margo glanced over the large cliff. "Well, shit."

Alice scurried to the edge of the cliff, glancing over, too. "It's too foggy," she frowned deeply. "I can't see anything."

"Maybe this is a sign," Kady said, folding her arms across her chest. Eliot glanced at her. "That this is a stupid idea. We should just go back and let Fogg deal with our little beastly friend."

Eliot shook his head, firmly. "Not happening," he peered over the edge of the cliff. "This - this has to be a trick or something."

"Everything is a trick with you guys," Penny said, but he sounded almost... fond. Eliot suppressed a smile as he continued to search for clues. "Maybe we should just yell," he joked after a moment.

Quentin quickly turned on his heels, eyes wide. "Yes," he said. "We should do exactly that."

So they all ended up on the edge of a cliff, yelling for Ember and Umber. Eliot had, shockingly, had weirder days.

/

"This isn't working," Eliot gasped, doubling over, hands on his knees. "Nothing's - " he gasped again " - happening."

Quentin joined his side, somehow not at all phased by all the screaming. Eliot looked up at him curiously. Quentin just shrugged, looking oddly smug. "Maybe we should try doing some spells?"

"Like what?" Alice asked, chest rising and falling rapidly. Margo stared not so discreetly. Eliot was too tired to roll his eyes.

Quentin stepped closer to the edge and glanced down at the fog, a thoughtful look on his face. That's when it happened - the ground began to crumble under his feet. Fast. Quentin yelped - embarrassingly - and went to step back. Eliot jumped forward to grab his arm, eyes wide. "Q!"

But his added weight just made the ground crumble faster and soon they were falling.

The last thing Eliot heard before the world around him went dark was Margo calling out his name frantically.

/

When Eliot woke up, he was hit with sudden, overwhelming pain. Groaning, he rolled on his side and - "Q," he breathed, relief flooding his heart. Quentin was on the ground beside him, eyes closed but breathing. Slow and steady. He laughed, once, sharp, and reached out to touch his face. "Q," he repeated, a little louder.

Slowly, Quentin's eyes opened, blinking blearily. "El," he said, gruff. "Why does everything hurt?"

He laughed again, wincing when a sharp pain exploded in his lower stomach. "Uh. We fell."

Quentin's eyes widened. "Fuck," he whispered. "Yeah."

Eliot swallowed thickly and slowly - so, so slowly - sat up. Quentin sat up a few seconds later. "Oh shit," he said, touching Eliot's arm. "Eliot, your stomach."

Glancing down, he wasn't all that surprised to see the large gash in his shirt and all the dried blood. He smiled weakly and went limp against Quentin's side. "No wonder laughing hurt, huh?" he joked, gently placing a hand over the wound. It didn't feel too deep, but there was a lot of blood.

"This is not a time for jokes," Quentin said as he gently laid him back on the ground. He moved Eliot's hand and lifted his shirt up properly, examining the wound closely.

Eliot closed his eyes, smirking. "If you wanted to see me shirtless, Q, there were other less painful ways."

"I swear," Quentin replied, but Eliot could hear the smirk in his voice. "I'm going to do a healing spell, okay?"

Taking a deep breath, Quentin raised his hands over Eliot's wound and focused his energy, mumbling quietly. Eliot sighed gratefully as the pain slowly faded away. After a moment, Quentin touched his face with his fingertips, soft and light. "You okay?" he asked, voice dripping with worry.

Eliot opened his eyes and grinned weakly. "Just peachy."

"Good," Quentin pulled his hand away, and Eliot couldn't help feeling disappointed. "The wound is gone, but... I still think we should rest a bit before moving."

Eliot nodded, staring up at the sky. But it wasn't really sky, per se, just white misty fog. Huh, he thought.

Quentin laid on the ground, curling up comfortably. He watched Eliot's face closely - close enough that Eliot noticed after a few seconds and turned, smiling. "What? Got blood on my face?"

"No," he answered immediately, reaching out and running his thumb over his cheekbone. When he pulled his hand back, his thumb was covered in dirt. "Just dirt."

Eliot's smile widened a bit. "Thanks," he said, soft.

Before he knew it, he was dozing off to the sound of Quentin mumbling stuff about Ember and Umber and Margo, and yeah, it all sounded important but he was  _really_ tired.

/

When he woke up next, Quentin was leaning over him, eyes wide. "Eliot?" he said. "Do you feel that?"

Eliot blinked a few times. "Uh, no but I can most definitely smell your breath," he joked, slowly sitting up. Quentin helped him—despite the joke and everything; Eliot couldn't help smiling. "I'm joking," he said once he was sat up. "I mean, it does stink but I'm pretty sure mine does, too."

Quentin looked at him. "I - I mean, yeah," he agreed, the corner of his lips twitching in a smile. "But no, just - focus, okay?"

"Okay, okay," Eliot sighed, shoulders slumping. He closed his eyes and—"oh fuck." He opened his eyes. "What is that?"

Quentin shrugged, glancing around curiously. "It feels like... insane concentrated magic, right?"

"Uh," Eliot laughed a little. "That's an understatement."

Quentin stood up and offered a hand to Eliot, who graciously took the offering and slowly climbed to his feet. His stomach still felt slightly sore, but the pain had subsided completely. He joined Quentin in searching, but it was hard to pinpoint exactly what direction the magic was coming from.

Finally, Eliot sighed in annoyance. "Let's just go straight?"

Quentin chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. "Okay," he agreed finally.

So they entered the forest in front of them, walking in a straight path, avoiding trees and large rocks and then—

"Oh shit," Eliot said, coming to a stop. "What is this?"

Quentin let out a sharp breath. "El, we just found Ember and Umber's Temple."


	17. deciding;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are yall still enjoying this just checking in bc i feel like the last couple of chaps were... not my best but thanks for the continued support and ill def be continuing if yall want!! i have chap 18+19 finished already

"We should - we should..." Eliot gestured aimlessly " - wait for them to find us."

Quentin shot him a disbelieving look, already walking closer to the temple. "Come on, this is _their_ world." He squinted at a piece of stone with wild, intricate designs on it. "They wanted us - and only us - to find it. That's why we fell off the cliff."

"Are you sure?" he mumbled, but he joined his side and glanced around curiously. "So... uh, what do we do now?"

Quentin crossed his arms, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "In the books every time they entered their temple it was always really vague. Like poetry shit." He sighed, dropping his arms back to his side. "Something about becoming one with the stone, I think."

"Ohhh," Eliot's eyes sparkled, and Quentin stiffened - "what?" - but Eliot just grinned and stepped closer, taking Quentin's wrist gently. "I'd do it, but you see I'm not a big fan of blood."

Quentin gasped. "El, I swear - "

But he'd already done the simple spell. Hissing, Quentin curled his hand into a fist, blood dripping to the ground. "Asshole," he muttered, but Eliot couldn't miss the smirk on his face. "Okay, so what? I just bleed all over everything?"

Eliot hummed, looking around. Then, he saw it - a perfect palm sized carving on one of the larger pieces of stone. He pointed. Quentin looked, too, and shrugged. "Worth a try," he said, walking over. He made a little noise of pain as he uncurled his hand, and Eliot actually felt bad.

"I'll heal you," he said quickly. "Once we're done."

Quentin looked at him, eyes surprisingly soft. He smiled. "You better," he replied before pressing his hand up against the cold stone. Nothing happened for a few seconds, but then pain - sudden and sharp - shot through his palm all the way up his arm. He screamed. Eliot tried to pull his hand away but he stayed glued to his spot.

"No, no," he gasped, the pain subsiding slowly. "I think that's a - a good sign."

Eliot stared at him. "I don't think pain is usually a good sign of anything," he argued breezily.

But then the pain was gone, and when Quentin pulled his hand away the cut was healed, too. Eliot grabbed his wrist, examining his palm curiously. "I - okay," he breathed. "That's fucking weird."

Before they could discuss it more, the stone beneath them started to tremble violently. Eliot groaned, mostly just annoyed, and slipped his hand down to grasp Quentin's because if something bad happened again they were not going to risk getting separated. As long as they were together, Eliot believed things would be okay. Which was an overwhelming realization that he'd have to pick apart later.

But the ground didn't give out like on the cliff - Thank God, Eliot thought - and when the trembling stopped the stone in front of them had simply moved to the side, revealing a large, dark hallway. He glanced at Quentin, who glanced down their intertwined hands. Clearing his throat, Eliot let go. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Quentin said, and was he _blushing?_

Eliot wished he was in a situation where he could properly appreciate it, but there were other more important things to do.

"So I guess we just..." he gestured lamely at the opening.

Quentin smiled, eyes sparkling with something like amusement. "Yeah."

/

The hallway - cave? Eliot wasn't really sure - wasn't very long. After a short walk, they came to a clearing; a large room filled with sparkling items like jewelry and cups made of silver and gold. He raised an eyebrow, glancing at Quentin.

"They like collecting pretty things," he answered, shrugging. "Kind of like dragons."

Eliot made a disbelieving noise low in his throat. "Dragons. Right, of course."

Quentin looked around slowly, clearing his throat. "Ember? Umber?" he called out, voice echoing.

Nothing. Eliot hummed lightly and started to explore the room - mostly out of boredom. Quentin watched him for a moment. "I'm not sure going through their stuff is a good idea," he said, but he didn't stop him, so.

"Oh," Eliot picked up a beautiful intricate gold necklace with emeralds stones. "This is - "

"Who is touching our stuff?" a voice boomed out, and Eliot dropped the necklace, cursing under his breath. He scrambled to pick it up and place it back on the pile before turning on his heels. They were no longer alone. Ember - Umber? - stood in front of them, looking amused mostly.

Quentin cleared his throat again. "Ember?" he asked, a knowing look on his face.

"Oh," he replied, grinning like a shark. "How do you know it's me?"

Quentin shrugged as Eliot joined his side, glancing nervously between them. "Just a hunch."

Ember stepped closer, hooves clacking on the floor. "You - " he kept his attention on Quentin " - not only cursed our world so long ago, but now you pull pranks like the one you did earlier?"

"To be fair," Eliot said, raising a hand, "that was Margo. Not Quentin."

Ember peered at him, narrowing his eyes. Eliot was almost scared they were about to be murdered - by a God, at least, there were less impressive ways to die - but then Ember grinned wildly. Eliot glanced at Quentin, who just stared back.

"Okay," Eliot said, slow. "So you're not... mad?"

Ember sighed lightly, stepping back to sit on a bed made of... _hay?_ Eliot grimaced. No thank you. Reminded him too much of his old farm days. "I'm not," he said breezily.

Eliot didn't get understand, but Quentin stepped forward. "But Umber is, right? He's also been the more..."

"Boring one?" Ember supplied easily. "I know."

Eliot decided he'd let Quentin do the talking because he had no fucking clue what was going on, even with his earlier crash course in Fillorian history. "Where is he?" he asked as casually as possible. "You both live here, right?"

"Oh," Ember clicked his tongue. "He left. Long ago, after you cursed Fillory."

Eliot's eyebrow twitched. "Okay, can you stop saying that."

"But he did," Ember replied, narrowing his eyes again. "You summoned the Beast when you were younger, did you not?"

Quentin swallowed thickly. "I - maybe?" he admitted softly. He still wasn't sure, to be fair.

"No need to be so scared, little ones," Ember sighed, jumping off the hay. "You wish to defeat him, right?"

Eliot stepped almost protectively in front of Quentin. "We do," he answered, confident. "Will you help us?"

"Sure," Ember's eyes sparkled. "Sounds like a fun. This place has been so boring lately." He disappeared from the room - Eliot wasn't so sure where he went because he didn't see any other exits but the one behind them.

He reached out and wrapped an arm around Quentin, squeezing. "We're going to win."

"You don't know that," Quentin said, but it wasn't mean spirited. "But thank you."

Eliot smiled softly. "Q, I think I should tell you - "

But then Ember was back, holding a vial of something white and thick and - "oh my fucking God," Eliot gagged. "Is that...?"

"Jesus," Quentin scrubbed a hand over his face.

Ember offered the vial, but when Eliot reached for it, he quickly pulled it back. "I'll let you two have this," he said, slowly. "The power of my se - " Eliot made a face.

"Please don't say that."

Ember shrugged, looking momentarily annoyed before continuing. "But only on one condition."

"Of course," Eliot sighed. "What is it?"

Ember stared at Quentin for a lingering moment. "You have to drink it," he said. "You have to kill the Beast."

"I - " he swallowed thickly, briefly glancing at Eliot. "I'm not sure that's - I don't think - "

Eliot snatched the vial from Ember. "Okay," he agreed breezily.

"Good," Ember grinned, clapping his hands. "Now go children of Earth. Find your friends."

Eliot blinked once before he felt a stabbing pain at the back of his neck and, then, everything was dark.


	18. plotting;

Eliot woke to a familiar, sharp voice. Swatting aimlessly, he slowly opened his eyes. "Bambi," he said, gruff. "Please shut up."

She sat, looming over him with wide, wet eyes. "Eliot," she hissed, tears dropping on his face. "You fucking idiot! We thought you two were dead. I - " her voice lowered " - I thought you were dead."

"Right," he said, a little softer. With her help, he sat up and glanced around - everyone was there, even Quentin, who - in his own right - looked pretty fucking worried, too. Eliot couldn't help smiling.

Sighing, Margo sat back on her feet. "So Quentin explained the whole thing," she said, clearing her throat. "He has to drink some sperm and we win the fight." She flicked her hair out of her face primly. "Sounds surprisingly easy."

"Please," Alice said, voice slightly high pitched, "do not say it like that."

Eliot shot her a grateful look.

"Whatever," Margo rolled her eyes and stood up, helping Eliot do the same. "But point stands - we actually have a chance."

Once he was standing, Quentin joined his side, touching his arm gently. Eliot's heart squeezed. Fuck, he'd almost said something stupid earlier. Almost confessed. "Hey," Quentin said, quiet. "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm - " he swallowed thickly. "I'm good."

Kady cocked a hip, placing a hand on it. "So we really have to put all our hope and safety in Quentin's hands?" She looked Quentin up and down disapprovingly. "I'm not comforted, somehow."

"Hey, fuck off," Eliot said, the words rolling off his tongue easily. "Q can do it." He found the back of Quentin's neck and squeezed, eyes warm. "You can do it, Q."

Kady narrowed her eyes, but didn't say anything else. Penny whispered something that sounded oddly like "he can do it, Kady." Once again, Eliot was reminded why he liked Penny.

"But how we do find him?" Alice asked, clutching her bag. "I mean... we can't kill him if we can't find him."

Quentin scratched his cheek, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He could feel the vial, heavy, in his pocket. "I... I don't know?" he admitted sheepishly, glancing at Eliot for help.

Eliot squeezed his neck again, once, before letting go. "We know what he wants," he said, staring at Quentin and promptly ignoring the dread growing in his stomach. Because they could do this. Quentin would be fine.

"You're suggesting we use Quentin as bait?" Alice asked, disbelieving.

Margo clamped a hand on Quentin's shoulder. "You can do it, right?"

"I - " he nodded curtly. "But he obviously can't sense I'm here or he'd have showed up by now, right?"

Eliot hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head. "Fillory - you guys can feel it, right? The magic in the air is insane." He looked around, squinting. "So it's probably harder to track people. The magic would interfere."

"I mean," Alice pursed her lips. "Yeah, that makes sense. A tracker would be going haywire."

Eliot smirked, glancing at Margo. "So let's make sure he knows we're here."

"I have no idea what you're planning," Margo replied breezily, taking his hand and squeezing. "But I'm in."

/

"You're slacking," Eliot commented idly, barely glancing in Kady's direction. She glared at him, fire in her eyes.

They'd all been casting for nearly an hour, but so far nothing. The magic in the air was almost suffocating, surrounding them like a tornado. Quentin stood off to the side, holding the vial. "Are you sure I can't join?"

"Shut up, Q," Margo answered, sweat beading on her forehead. "Just stand over there and look pretty, will ya?"

Alice took a shaky breath, her tuts were getting sloppy - very unusual for her. Quentin stepped closer. "It's not working," he said quietly. "We should stop. Why would he think the magic surge is coming from us, anyway?"

"He won't," Eliot answered easily. "But he'll probably want to check it out, anyway."

Quentin sighed heavily, slumping against one of the nearby trees. He stared at the vial, making a face. Gross. Biting his bottom lip, he glanced around at all his friends- kind of. He's not really sure what they are, but he cares about them and that's a scary realization. He only ever had Julia, and she, too, had been taken from him for a short time. He didn't want to lose anyone ever again.

"Guys," he said, sharply. "I think we're making a mistake."

They all slowed down, but continued casting.

"What?" Julia asked, voice dripping with concern. "Is everything okay? Do you see him?" She looked around frantically.

Quentin smiled fondly and shook his head, stepping forward. He raised the vial. "I don't think I should do the one to do this." Eliot opened his mouth. "It's not that I don't think I'm strong," he continued before he could say anything. "It's just... I think someone else would be more suited for this. And we only have one shot to get it right."

Eliot's eyes flickered to Alice, frowning. Quentin had to admit she was a logical choice - she was strong and talented and smart, but. He stepped closer, staring up at Eliot with unwavering confidence.

"It should be you," he said.

Eliot made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. "What?"

"I trust you," Quentin said, holding his head up high, "more than I trust most people."

He looked at Julia, half-expecting her to look offended or something. She just smiled and winked, which—okay.

"And I know you're stronger than you think," Quentin continued, taking Eliot's hand. He placed the vial in his palm and curled his fingers over it. "I believe if anyone could do this, it's you, Eliot."

Eliot laughed sharply. "You're putting your faith in the wrong person, Coldwater." His heart thumped wildly in his chest. He couldn't believe anyone, even Margo most days, would trust him with something like this. But Quentin did - Quentin who was watching him like this was the most logical choice in the world. It wasn't.

"Maybe," Quentin replied breezily, squeezing Eliot's hand once before letting go. "But I've made my choice."

Eliot stared down at the vial and nodded slowly because it's not like he could force the kid to drink the shit. Quentin walked to join the others, lifting his hands to start casting. He looked like a natural, moving freely. He should be the one doing this, Eliot thinks, but he doesn't argue. With a sigh, he walked over to the tree and took Quentin's spot, waiting.

They'd been casting for about two hours in total - Quentin picking up most of the slack - when Eliot finally saw something. A moth, beautiful and blue, flying above Julia's head. Eliot swallowed thickly. He didn't know what to do. Yell? Just drink the stuff already? But he didn't know if the Beast was here yet, and Ember hadn't been forthcoming with information. They weren't sure how long his stuff would work.

Apparently, he didn't need to to make a choice because when Julia saw it she yelped and jumped back.

Quentin was at her side in seconds. "Fuck," he breathed, looking over at Eliot. He didn't need to say anything.

Taking a sharp breath, he opened the vial and - reluctantly - downed its content. At first, he didn't feel anything but then he did all at once - sharp tingles spreading from his head to toes, on the edge of painful but not quite. Looking up, he saw Quentin staring at him, a look of awe on his face.

"Yes, he looks hot," Margo commented loudly, rolling her eyes. "But get your shit together, Coldwater."

The Beast appeared in a furry of moths, standing off to the side. Eliot watched as their group scurried away, hands thrown up in preparation for battle magic. They had a plan - kind of. The others would distract him long enough for Eliot to get one good hit in. But they hadn't expected, well, this - 

Slowly, the moths flew away and underneath them formed the face of a man. Fairly plain.

Eliot didn't really care, but he heard a gasp from Julia. "Is that - "

"Doesn't matter," Quentin replied gruffly.

The man chuckled under his breath, stepping toward their merry little group. "I'm not unreasonable," he said, smiling. "If you all leave now, I won't go after you." He placed a hand over his chest. "Truly. The one I want is - " his eyes fell on Quentin, cold and unforgiving. Eliot shivered, but stayed back despite his mind chanting help, help, protect.

"Yeah?" Julia said, stepping in front of Quentin protectively. Almost like a mother protecting her child. Her eyes were somehow just as cold and unforgiving if not more. "Well, let me offer you your own ultimatum. Leave Quentin alone - leave all of us alone - and we don't kill you."

The man raised an eyebrow slowly. "You've certainly got the same spunk as always," he said almost conversationally.

Margo joined Julia's side. "Let me translate what my friend just said - fuck off, asshole."


	19. disappearing;

Eliot looked around frantically, hoping for a sign - something - to let him know when to make a move. Then, he caught Quentin's eye. He barely moved, but it was enough, his eyes flashing with a silent message. Not yet. Eliot swallowed thickly, nodding curtly. He kept his eyes on Margo and Julia, waiting.

"You two are almost adorable," the Beast said, tilting his head in a way that seemed inhuman.

He raised his hand and Eliot took a sharp breath. Because no, no, he couldn't wait any longer. Margo.

Then, Quentin was casting, too, some serious battle magic. Eliot watched as he hit the Beast square in the chest, sparks exploding, but he barely even stumbled, just turned away from the girls to look at Quentin. "My, my," he whistled, stepping in his direction, eyes dark. "You're much stronger - "

Margo glanced at Eliot and nodded, once, a sharp jerky movement. He moved without a second thought. Casting wildly, probably messing up a lot, honestly, he aimed at the Beast's back. Quentin was saying something - he couldn't make out the words; blood rushing in his ears.

Then, they were gone. The Beast and Quentin. Eliot stumbled forward a few steps, a bit of magic firing off from his fingertips.

"What the fuck?" Penny said, voicing what everyone was thinking because that certainly hadn't been part of the plan.

Eliot blinked. Margo ran to his side, grabbing his arm. He could barely register the sharp pain of her fingernails digging into his skin. "El," she said, soft as a feather. He always thought that kind of voice didn't suit her. "El, look at me."

Slowly, he looked away from the spot Quentin had been standing just moments ago, focusing on Margo. He didn't feel... his heart was thumping loudly, his stomach churning violently. He grabbed her face suddenly, eyes wide. "Bambi," he said, almost a whimper. "He's - he's - "

"I know, baby," she said, stroking his hand. "It's okay. I - we'll find him. Right, guys?"

Julia nodded quickly. "He probably did something stupid again," she said. "We just - we need to find him before - "

Margo shot her a dirty look, and she stopped abruptly. Turning back to Eliot, she gathered him in her arms properly. "We're gonna find him," she whispered in his ear, petting his hair. "Just calm down, okay? We need you calm, Eliot, love."

He nodded jerkily, burying his face in her hair because fuck. Fuck, this was not supposed to happen. They were supposed to do this as a team. He was supposed to be the one to kill the Beast - Quentin himself had said that. But now he was gone and Eliot was suddenly so, so tired. When he started to sob, everyone pretended like they didn't notice, at least.

/

"I know!" Eliot snapped, roughly running his fingers through his hair. Julia stepped back, but Margo kept her ground - steady as ever, unwavering. He stared at her for a long minute before finally sighing. "I'm sorry, Bambi," he said, softer. "I just - I can't think right now."

Margo sighed lightly. "We're all upset, El," she chided softly. "But we can't just sit around and wait. I doubt the Beast is going to be keeping him as a pet."

"I know... I just - I don't know where to even begin looking," Eliot slumped against a tree, frowning deeply. Then he got an idea. "But I know someone who might," he said, almost a whisper. He grabbed Margo's hand, squeezing. "Wanna meet a God?"

She tilted her head, like she was thinking. "I mean," she drawled. "It's not exactly on my bucket list," she smirked, "but sure."

/

Eliot stood at the edge of the cliff, looking over. "So I'm not exactly sure how this works," he admitted sheepishly, kicking a rock off the side. He listened, but nothing - it really was a long fall, then. "Q and I were okay... mostly, but I did get slightly injured. So even when Ember does it, we're not guaranteed safety, I think."

Margo gave him a calculating look. "You were hurt?"

"He healed me," Eliot said breezily, stroking his thumb over her knuckles. "Anyway, I'm thinking Penny can help us here." He turned, his gaze landing on the aforementioned man, unblinking. "You can travel us to the bottom of the cliff."

Penny chuckled awkwardly. "Didn't I tell you - I'm not - I haven't perfected traveling with other people."

Eliot raised an eyebrow. "I remember," he said simply.

"You're literally - " Penny shook his head almost fondly. "If any of you die," he said pointedly, "not my fault."

Eliot grinned, stepping forward and grasping Penny's hand. He could feel the sweat on his palm - despite his demeanor being as cool as ever, he was so obviously nervous. Eliot squeezed his hand, and felt warmth spread through his chest when Penny, surprisingly, squeezed back. Kady took his other hand, and Julia grabbed one arm while Alice grabbed the other.

"Please don't let us die," Margo commented dryly to the sky.

/

When Eliot opened his eyes again, he was at the bottom of the cliff. He doubled over, gulping down air. Then, he looked around and checked on everyone else. They were okay - in one piece, at least. He smiled at Margo, who looked back at him with wide eyes that said Thank God.

"You did it!" Julia cheered, patting Penny on the back.

He nodded dumbly. "Yeah," he laughed a little. "I did. Fuck."

If this had happened under different circumstances, Eliot would've been more than happy to properly stop and celebrate Penny's achievement, but they were unfortunately in a hurry. Thankfully, Penny seemed to understand and simply followed after Eliot as he went down the same path as before, avoiding trees.

The temple was still there. Eliot sighed in relief as he approached the stone door from earlier. Shaking his head, he performed a quick spell - the same one from before, hissing. Margo was at his side in seconds. "What - " she asked, but then he was pressing his palm against the stone and she cut herself off, eyes sparkling with understanding.

"Gods are weird," Julia commented.

Eliot waited for the pain, but nothing came. He kept his hand firmly pressed against the concrete, squinting. "This isn't right," he said, quiet. He pushed harder, squeezing his eyes shut at the pain - not of the magical assortment.

"Eliot," Margo said to his side. "I don't think this is working."

He took a deep breath, pressed even harder. The blood was cooling. "It - " he swallowed thickly. "It will," he argued. "It has to."

But still nothing. Eventually, Eliot slumped, his hand dropping from the stone to lay limply at his side. Margo took his wrist gently, and did a quick healing spell. That wasn't right, though. The stone should've healed him. Like with Quentin. Eliot leaned against the stone, and Margo released his wrist, frowning.

"We can try something else," she offered confidently.

Kady nodded from her spot a few feet away. "We can just blow the door out of the way."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Alice said, timid but fierce.

Margo looked between them both, sighing. "We have to do - "

"Fucking open the door, Ember!" Eliot yelled suddenly, startling her back a few steps.

Margo put a hand to her chest. "Jesus Christ, Eliot," she mumbled under her breath, but he didn't even glance in her direction, too distracted with his new mission of yelling. Everyone looked at her worriedly, but she just shrugged - she knew Eliot hadn't lost it. Not yet, anyway.

"You are going to open this stupid fucking door for us!" Eliot continued, banging a fist against the cold stone insistently. "Because you said you wanted to help! And that means helping us find Quentin - you know the one you said had to defeat the Beast! So you open this door or I swear you'll regret it!" He barely glanced back at Kady. "I don't know if one of us could do it, but I'm pretty sure a handful of Brakebills students can make a pretty big dent in your temple!"

Kady whistled, nudging Penny. "Maybe he isn't so bad," she whispered, grinning wildly. Penny just rolled his eyes.

"Ember!" he yelled again, a little more desperate. "Please." Still nothing. No one said anything. Taking a shaky breath, Eliot leaned his forehead against the stone. "Please," he continued, almost a whisper. "I can't lose him. I can't. I can't, I can't," he repeated like a mantra, swallowing thickly. "I know you probably don't give a fuck because you're a God and we're just - stupid, lowly humans but please."

Margo touched his back again. "El, I really don't think he cares," she said, soft. "Maybe we really will have to - "

She was cut off by the sound of - "Fuck," Eliot said, stepping back, eyes widening. The stone moved to the side, slow but steady, shaking the ground beneath their feet. He laughed, once, an almost wounded sound and grabbed Margo, hugging her. She hugged him back, petting his hair.

"You did it," she whispered in his ear.


	20. cursing;

Margo pointed a finger aggressively. "Listen here, you little bitch - "

Alice grabbed Margo by the wrist and yanked her back. "Please," she said desperately. "Can we not get ourselves killed by a God before we can have a chance to save Quentin?"

"Oh," Eliot said, nodding. "I didn't know you had that in you," he said, clamping a hand down on Alice's shoulder. "Margo hates being touched without permission."

Flushing, Alice tore her hand away. "I just - "

"Children of Earth," Ember said, looking oddly Godlike for once. Eliot thought it was unfitting. "Why do you think I'd help you... _again?_ "

Eliot stepped forward, squaring his shoulders. "You want the Beast dead, right?" he asked, not waiting for an answer. "We do, too, but we can't do that without Quentin. You said that yourself." He jutted his chin in the air, all fake confidence. "So help us find him, and this time we will succeed."

"But you won't even have the power of my se - "

Eliot made a face, cutting him off, "I know."

"But you still think you have the power to defeat the Beast?" Ember sounded more like himself now, all casual amusement as he watched Eliot closely, like he was a mouse and he was the cat.

Eliot shrugged, a sharp movement. "I think I won't stop trying until I'm dead," he said in way of an answer.

Margo looked at him, eyes wide. Eliot didn't have time to think about what his words meant - in the grand scheme of everything Quentin. He knew - deep down - his feelings for Quentin were... more. More than just an artificial crush, but Eliot could hardly stand feelings under normal circumstances. Life and death circumstances were hardly any better.

"That's... interesting," Ember said, almost a whisper. "I never did understand that about you humans." With a flick of his hand, Eliot was on the floor screaming in pain. Margo was at his side in seconds, trying - but failing - to do a healing spell. She glared up at Ember, opening her mouth, but he interrupted her breezily. "I gave him a spark of my power," he said, shifting his weight comfortably. "It will last longer than my se - "

Alice made an offended noise low in her throat. "So they didn't have to - "

"Oh no," Ember laughed, waving her off. "I just did that because it was funny."

Eliot leaned against Margo, resting his head on her shoulder. The pain was mostly gone - just a dull ache now. "I drank," he took a shaky breath, "God sperm for fucking nothing?"

Laughing shakily, Margo kissed the top of his head. "You've drank worse, Eliot."

"I hate," Eliot took another deep, shuddering breath as he climbed to his feet, "that you're right."

Margo hovered by his side, like a mother hen. Eliot smiled briefly before turning his attention back toward Ember. "Okay," he said, slow. "Thanks for that, but... how will this help?"

"You tried a tracking spell?" Ember asked in the form of a question. "Tracking spells are tricky here - the magic is too powerful; it can overwhelm the tracker." He clapped his hands together, and a map of Fillory appeared in the air in front of him. Alice took a step forward, gasping in awe. Eliot might've been impressed under different circumstances, but he was too distracted by the glowing blue dot in the middle of the map, flickering in and out. "But as a God, you can make them work."

Margo nodded a bit curtly. "This goes for Eliot, too?"

"Correct," Ember snickered, and the map disappeared much too soon. "You try."

Eliot hated when things were expected of him - he always managed to find a way to screw things up. But he couldn't... not try - Quentin needed him, and he needed Quentin just as much if not more, honestly. So he took a slow breath and raised his hands in the air, concentrating.

Slowly, a map flickered to life in front of him - an exact copy of Ember's - and Margo grinned, and Eliot couldn't help grinning back. Because okay, this could work.

"Thanks, Ember," Julia said on their way out. "I think." Shrugging, she turned away and caught up with Penny and Kady.

Eliot went to follow her, but Ember stopped him - with magic, no less. Eliot was, for all intents and purposes, glued to his spot. Margo glared at Ember, but Eliot just smiled easily. "Go on, Bambi, I'll join you in a moment."

She hesitated, but eventually joined the others.

"What is it?" he asked impatiently.

Ember hummed thoughtfully, and for a second he looked like a real God again, a strangely solemn look on his face. "You two have a strong connection," he said, lowly. "Take care of each other."

He swallowed thickly, because he knew the answer but. "Margo?" he asked nervously. "I know."

"Yes, you two are intertwined in a way, too, but... I don't speak of her and you know that, don't you." It wasn't really a question, amusement seeping into his voice. "But believe what you must. Good luck, children of Earth."

/

They followed Eliot's map and ended up at - "is that a fucking outhouse?" Margo asked, a look of disgust on her face.

"He's keeping Quentin held hostage at an outhouse?" Eliot dropped his hands, the map disappearing in a flurry of sparks. "That's... unusually cruel."

Alice stepped forward, and Eliot quickly noticed the look on her face - she didn't look disgusted. Actually, she looked... in awe. Narrowing his eyes, he grabbed her arm. "Alice," he said, lowly. "Do you know what this is?"

She swallowed thickly. "I think we just found the Wellspring," she said quietly, almost a whisper.

Margo turned on her heels, eyes wide. "This - " she pointed at the little building that did, indeed, look like nothing more than your usual outhouse " - is the fucking source of all magic?"

"Wait, yeah," Penny cleared his throat. "You guys can feel it, right? There's, like, insane magic coming off it."

Eliot turned back and concentrated, eyes fluttering shut. Penny wasn't lying - it'd been hard to tell at first, but the magic here was denser, almost too much. Opening his eyes, he took a sharp breath. "Q mentioned something about... being able to take from the Wellspring directly."

"Oh," Alice blinked once, then twice. "Oh shit."

The words sounded almost funny coming from her mouth, but, well, now wasn't the time for a good laugh.

"That's why the Beast is so powerful?" Kady folded her arms over her chest. "Of course he had to be stealing it."

Eliot ran his fingers through his hair, a loose curl falling in front of his eyes. "Okay, sure, he's been stealing from the source of all magic, but I - I have God power in me." He squared his shoulders, dusting his vest off. "That - that has to be better, right?"

"Sure," Kady replied blandly. Penny elbowed her.

Margo rolled her eyes and grabbed Eliot by the the hand, yanking him to the side. "I heard what Ember said," she said, barely above a whisper. "You might not even see it - I don't fucking know - but you've fallen for that boy, El, hard. And honestly?" She smiled, just a hint. "I think he feels the same way. So yeah, we have no idea who's stronger, but you have - " she paused, almost shuddering " - love on your side and while I'm usually the stark opposite of a hopeless romantic for once I'm gonna have to hope that that means something."

/

Eliot made up the end of the group as they approached the Wellspring's entrance - a very average looking wood door. Margo held his hand the whole way, squeezing. They still didn't have the best plan, per se, just the same general idea that they could distract the Beast while Eliot saved Quentin and, then, hopefully killed the Beast.

But they had discussed one particular thing.

"If you can save Q, but not kill the Beast, do it," Margo said, ignoring Kady's look of disbelief. "Our main priority has to be getting Q out of there safe." She turned toward Eliot, a stubborn expression on her face that made him smile - just a little. "Do not get me wrong - I want that fucker dead, so try your best, but." She nodded, once, discussion over.

Eliot kissed the corner of her mouth. "Thank you, Bambi," he whispered in her ear as he pulled away.

She just squared her shoulders and turned back to the group, but he knew that look in her eyes was one of pure love - and not just for him anymore; Quentin had somehow weaseled his way into her heart, too, which wasn't an easy feat.

Alice was at the front of the group mainly because they had decided she was, in a lot of ways, the strongest (excluding Eliot's current Godliness). When she reached the door, she paused and took a deep breath. Eliot was hit with a sudden urge of protectiveness - not because they were close, exactly, but she was here, risking herself to save Quentin when she didn't have to and Eliot loved her for it. Loved everyone for it, even Kady as she grumbled something under her breath that didn't sound very nice.


	21. forgetting;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i bet yall thought this would be the climax... nope one more arc than we're at the end mwah

Alice - after taking her deep breath - opened the door almost violently. Eliot startled, feeling stupid because if a _door_ could startle him, how was he supposed to defeat the Beast, but hey, it wasn't not like he made the choice to be chosen one. He loved the idea in theory, sure, but in practice Margo would've made way more sense. Margo was a natural born leader. Eliot was a carefully constructed leader.

They enter the Wellspring slowly, glancing around. It's definitely not what Eliot had been expecting; inside it's nothing more than a tiny office with a desk and bookshelves and -

Quentin, sitting behind the desk with wide eyes and _oh fuck_.

Eliot felt like he could cry with joy because he was okay. He looked a bit shaken, but that's fine - they could come back from shaken (with the help of alcohol and a few good cries). Shaken was _good_. Margo looked relieved, too, shoulders slumping before quickly squaring again because Quentin was okay, thank God, but the Beast was nowhere to be seen and that probably wasn't good.

"Where is he?" Penny asked because apparently his brain was still actually working, not consumed by thoughts of Quentin, Quentin, Quentin. Eliot appreciated him in that moment.

Quentin furrowed his brows, shifted in the chair. He didn't say anything.

Eliot smiled tightly and approached the desk. "Q," he said, soft. "Are..." his eyes flickered from the top of his head, covered in the same old soft, but tangled brown mess of hair, down to what he could see from the other side of the desk, which just so happened to be Quentin's hands. They also looked fine, even if he was fidgeting a bit oddly.

Before he could finish his question, which fine, a simple "are you okay?" was probably overrated anyway, the door to the Wellspring opened again and Eliot knew it was the Beast before they saw him. He could feel it - he assumed that had something to do with his Godly power. Or maybe common sense, yeah, that probably worked, too.

Margo pushed Eliot and Penny behind the desk - quite violently, too.

She locked eyes with Penny, unfaltering in her confidence. "If everything starts going to the shit, you take Eliot and Quentin and go." She narrowed her eyes. "You hear me? No stalling." She barely glanced at Eliot, lowering her voice. "When he's distracted and weakened, you know what to do."

Penny's eyes flickered to Kady, but Margo didn't budge. He swallowed thickly and looked more scared of Margo than the Beast for the briefest of seconds. Margo had that power. Without another word, she turned toward the Beast and got in position alongside Kady, Julia, and Alice.

They sure did make a pretty, scary team.

Eliot took a shaky breath and crouched near Quentin, touching his arm gently. "Q?" he asked, but there was still something off in the way Quentin looked at him and fuck. Can things never be easy? "Did - " he swallowed around the nervous lump in his throat. "Did the Beast do something we need to know about?"

But then Julia made a terrible strangled noise, and shivers went down Eliot's spine as he turned to glance at their little group's progress. The Beast was cornered, kind of, but Margo looked exhausted and Alice - fuck, was her nose bleeding? That couldn't be a good sign. He turned back to Quentin.

He looked numb, kind of confused, which was _not_ an appropriate response to his best friend getting the shit beat out of her.

"Okay," he muttered, petting Quentin's hair. "I - we do not have time for this."

Because whatever the Beast did would have to be a problem for later. At least Quentin was safe. Standing up, he took a steadying breath and channeled all of Ember's gifted power. When he glanced in Penny's direction, he nodded once. "Protect Q."

Penny licked his lips, glanced at Quentin, before looking back with a nod. Eliot smiled tightly.

He turned back to the fight in front of him and waited for the right moment - a proper opening because he only really had real shot at this, and he was not wasting it. Margo - without even looking, somehow - seemed to know and changed course, turning the Beast around. No one questioned her, just followed suit. Kady was exceptionally good at battle magic, even frying a few of the Beast's lovely moths that lingered around even long after his face had morphed into something human(ish).

Eliot thought maybe it was a trap because surely the Beast could sense he was powered up, right? And if so, he would be an idiot to turn his back to him but honestly... Eliot was so, so tired and maybe, just once, the universe had thrown him a bone and he didn't want to question it. For once he was just going to take advantage of the situation and hope for the best. Quentin had said he wasn't a pessimist and maybe he was right - to an extent.

Because Eliot truly believed they would win this. So he raised his trembling hands and glanced at Margo over the Beast's shoulders. She didn't even look at him. Probably the smart thing to do, too.

God power, even temporary, apparently meant he didn't need to cast the normal way, which meant no chanting, which worked in his favor as he had the element of surprise when his hand went down in an universal slicing movement, quick and precise even as his hands shook violently. There was a sound - not like skin slicing or bones breaking, exactly, but somehow just as gross and startling.

The Beast stumbled forward a few steps and turned. He looked - genuinely shocked, and Eliot felt a surge of pride. But it quickly dissipated when the Beast straightened his back and went for him, hand raised and aiming for his neck. Which okay, _bad_.

Eliot threw his hands up in a protective stance, but then the Beast froze, eyes widening, and Eliot slowly lowered his hands, eyes probably just as wide as he fell to the wooden floor and - his shirt fell open, giving way to an insane amount of moths.

They apparently weren't inherently evil - probably just victims in all this, too, as they fumbled in the air briefly before going to the door.

Eliot blinked, once, twice, then looked up and into the face of a stunned Alice, hands still raised in the air. He laughed, a sudden and sharp sound, and picked her up in a hug. She seemed surprised by that - maybe even more so than at the prospect of killing the Beast. But she relaxed slowly and hugged him back, burying her face in his shoulder.

Margo joined their side, whistling. "I didn't know you had that in you, Alice."

She realistically looked like shit, hair sticking up all over the place and makeup smudged, but Eliot thought she looked absolutely stunning. Slowly, Eliot untangled his limbs from Alice, and then Alice was hugging Margo, who almost looked... _embarrassed?_ Eliot smirked when Margo just gave him the finger before gently hugging Alice back.

Eliot turned his attention to what really mattered; Quentin, who was still sitting quietly at the desk. Julia was by his side, holding his hand and - shit, why did she have that look on her face? Slowly, he approached them. "I - " he glanced at Julia, who looked up at him and smiled sadly.

"He's fine," she said, and he could see the way she squeezed his hand almost desperately. "But..."

She didn't explain, which okay, fine, Eliot could do things on his own. Kneeling, he took Quentin's other hand and squeezed, mimicking Julia.

"Hey, Q," he said, soft as ever. "I know we didn't really, uh... get to talk before the action began, but you're okay." He felt the familiar burn of tears and laughed softly. "You're okay," he repeated. "And now we can go back and do that thing we discussed, remember? Have a boring, mundane school life together."

"I..." Quentin stared at his face. Eliot searched his eyes, hoping for something like fondness or love or _fuck_ , even gratefulness, but there was nothing. He just stared blankly. When he finally spoke, he broke Eliot's heart with three simple words. "Who are you?"


	22. brainstorming;

Eliot paced the room, roughly running his fingers through his hair. Margo sat on the couch, ankles crossed. Quentin was upstairs with Julia and Alice, and _fuck_. Eliot was so, so angry. He was almost _bursting_ with anger.

"He's safe," Margo said for probably the eleventh time. Her eyes were sad, though. "We have to count that as a win, El."

Eliot growled, low in his throat, and halted to a sudden stop, throwing his hands in the air. "He can't remember shit, Margo!" He can't remember _me_. "And - and Dean Fogg said this looks bad. I - " his voice lowered, all the anger surging out of him at once, "he might never remember."

"I know," Margo said, softer, patting the couch beside her. Eliot took a shaky breath and sat down. "But he's alive. We can start anew." She looked away, a pained look in her eyes. "That has to be enough."

Eliot thought that was bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit, but Margo was trying her best and he loved her for that. He leaned against her, staring down at their feet. Margo smiled sadly and rubbed their feet together.

"I feel - " Eliot laughed, once, wetly. "I feel so stupidly selfish. I'm sure if anyone is, you know - " he gestured weakly. "It's Julia."

Margo hummed thoughtfully, petting his hair. "Don't do that," she chided. "We're all allowed to be upset. It's not a contest."

He nodded slowly. "At least the imminent danger looming over all of us is gone," he muttered, going for a joke but falling short.

"He can get a proper education now," Margo replied without missing a beat, squeezing his shoulder.

Eliot laughed again, burying his face in her hair. "Yeah," he breathed. They sat like that for a long time in comfortable silence until eventually Julia appeared at the top of the stairs, looking shaken but better. She descended the stairs slowly and cleared her throat. Margo pulled away from Eliot, just barely, enough to look up at her.

"He's okay," she said, a bit sad. "I mean, he definitely does not remember anything, but he's okay."

Eliot's heart clenched at the sight of Julia so run down. "I'm - "

She raised a hand. "Don't," she squared her shoulders. "He's okay. That's a good thing."

He nodded slowly.

"And," Julia glanced at the stairs. "Honestly? I - I think this might be for the better."

Eliot tensed. Margo rubbed between his shoulders. "How could you possibly think that?" he asked finally, a little hurt.

"It's not what you think," Julia shot back, like she'd been prepared for it. "He's just been through so much. Maybe - maybe a fresh start isn't such a bad thing," she finished softly.

Eliot wanted to say something - _anything_ \- but then he remembered the look on Quentin's face when he'd told him about his childhood and suddenly all his drive was gone. He was just so, so tired and maybe, just maybe, Julia was right.

/

Eliot lingered outside Quentin's room. He couldn't hear anything. Maybe he was sleeping. Maybe he should turn around and leave - come back later when his heart didn't feel like it was going to crawl up his throat. But he knew if he did that, Margo would be on his ass in seconds. Taking a deep breath, he shifted the plate to his other arm and knocked lightly.

Every second felt like an eternity. Then, the door opened and Eliot felt okay.

"Eliot, right?"

And there went that.

Eliot smiled tightly, holding up the plate. "Uh, I brought you food."

"Oh." Quentin smiled, and it was so different. Eliot knew he was probably being stupid, but that was not _his_ Quentin's smile. It was all wrong, and _fuck_. "Thanks." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Is, uh - Julia with you?"

Quentin stepped out of the way and Eliot took that as his cue to enter, sweeping into the room. "No?" he answered in the form of a question. "Do you want me to go - " he gestured vaguely.

Quentin quickly shook his head no, looking a little guilty. "No, I - " he sighed, slumping. "She's nice, but she... she just keeps crying and it's a lot."

Eliot licked his lips, slow. "Right." He couldn't exactly blame her, though. He gingerly sat at the foot of Quentin's bed, still holding the plate. "Want to eat?"

Quentin silently joined him.

Eliot cleared his throat, placing the plate on the bed in front of him. "It's all your favorites, but, well," he smiled sadly. "Not sure about the details of your current - " he gestured " - mind wiping thing. Maybe you hate chicken now." He shrugged. "Who knows."

"I think I still like chicken," he replied breezily, smiling a bit.

Eliot appreciated seeing Quentin's smile even if it was not quite right, which almost made him feel guilty. So he looked away, tucking his hands under his thighs. For a moment, it was silent; just the quiet sounds of Quentin eating. "I'm - " he stopped himself. "We're going to find a way to get your memory back. It's... complicated - whatever the Beast did. It's not your average memory wipe, but we'll find a way."

He looked up, and froze at the expression on Quentin's face. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen his - _their_ \- Quentin look so open. Honest. He smiled despite himself. "Thank you," he said. "But I don't - I don't want all you guys putting your lives on hold for me." He shifted. "I can - this is a school, right? I can do school. I've forgotten a lot, but, like, I can remember weird stuff. Like I'm insanely good at math, I think."

Eliot laughed. "I actually... I'm not sure if Before Quentin was all that good at math. We discussed many things, never math."

"That's fair," Quentin said, nodding. "Maybe I'm still good at other stuff, too, though."

He smiled wider. "Okay," he said. "We can test that theory," he pointed at Quentin's plate, " _after_ you're done."

/

They got comfortable on the bed, leaning against the headboard, and Eliot helped Quentin try a few spells. The first three had been duds, but on the fourth he finally accomplished something - just a few sparks in the air, but it was still enough to make his eyes light up. "I - wow," he shook his hands out, "that feels amazing."

Eliot smiled, nudging him. "Try again."

Beaming, Quentin produced a few more sparks and laughed, carefree and airy. It was possibly Eliot's favorite sound in the world. Then, they were interrupted by a pounding at the door.

Eliot groaned, low in his throat, and climbed off the bed. Quentin scooted to the edge of the bed, curious. Eliot opened the door to a very frantic looking Alice, eyes wide behind her thick rimmed glasses. "I - " she glanced over his shoulder at Quentin and smiled tightly, grabbing Eliot by the wrist. "We need to talk. Elsewhere."

He blinked and looked back at Quentin. Quentin just stared, obviously no less curious. "Uh." Eliot turned back to Alice. "Okay. I'll be back, Q." Without missing a beat, he slipped out the door and closed it behind him securely.

Alice sighed in relief. "Follow me. Downstairs."

Eliot followed her quietly and was surprised to see everyone - literally - gathered in the living room. He smiled a bit sheepishly. "I'm starting to think this conversation might require drinks?"

"I - " Alice pinched the bridge of her nose, then, waved weakly. "Probably, yes."

He didn't need to be told twice. Eliot went to the bar and started to prepare drinks for everyone. Strong stuff. After he was done, he handed off a drink to each person before settling on the couch with Margo. Alice paced the room, managing to look both frantic and calm all at once. Eliot might've been amused, and a little impressed, under different circumstances.

"I don't think Quentin was mind wiped," she said finally, coming to a stop.

Margo took a sip of her drink. She probably looked perfectly calm to an outsider, but Eliot knew her too well and that familiar twitch at the corner of her mouth suggested she wasn't. "Okay," she replied slowly. "Why not?"

"Because we had him tested, right?" Alice continued, almost too fast. "By both Dean Fogg and Professor Lipson. They would've... picked up on your average memory wipe, right?"

She was doing that thing where she talked in the form of questions. A habit Eliot thought was almost endearing. He smiled, just a hint. "Alice, dear, I thought we were already under the impression this is no average mind wipe."

"Well, yes, but still," Alice sighed, crossing her arms. "I don't think he was memory wiped. I think something else happened."

Margo placed her drink on the table and gestured Alice over, and - _oh_ \- placed her hands on her hips. Eliot raised an eyebrow. He knew Margo had been courting Alice, but he hadn't been aware of her success. Margo noticed him staring and gave him the finger. Alice almost smiled - almost.

"We believe you," she said, running her hands up and down the other woman's sides comfortingly. "But it's still not much to go on."

Alice slumped, suddenly looking much smaller. "I know. But we have to do something." She glanced at Eliot, frowning. "I kind of feel responsible, I guess."

He smiled sadly. "This is no one's fault, but the Beast's." Taking a deep breath, he stared down into his drink. "I wish it was, honestly. I'd prefer having someone to be angry at, but. It's simply not that easy."

"The Beast," Julia perked up in her chair. "He wasn't just the Beast. We all - we all saw it, right? That was totally Martin Chatwin."

Margo shrugged, looking over at her. "Or maybe just a man who oddly fit his description," she replied blandly.

"Whatever," she waved her off. "Point is, he wasn't just a monster. Or - at least, he didn't start as one."

"He wasn't?" Kady piped up. "He killed people, Jules."

Julia almost whined. "Yes, fuck. Not my point." She sat up straighter. "In the books, he was a weird kid but he wasn't a monster. Something obviously happened - to make him the Beast, but." She shook her head. "Unimportant now, all things considered. But maybe that means... good news." Julia glanced around at everyone. "For us."


	23. searching;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is longer than i expected but mwah

"So what are you suggesting?" Eliot asked, probably a bit too harsh. "Because I - " he sighed, looking away. "I can't do this blind hope bullshit." Margo gave him a look, but he just shrugged and glanced at Julia. "No offense, darling."

Julia shook her head firmly. "Honestly? Don't blame you." She folded her arms over her chest. "I think Alice and I should just... study this harder."

Alice stepped forward, looking almost like a soldier with her stiff shoulders. "Okay," she agreed, nodding curtly.

"If anyone else wants to help..." Julia trailed off, pursing her lips. She pointedly stared at Kady and Penny.

Kady was, surprisingly, the first to crack. Eliot would've surely bet on Penny. "Fine," she grumbled, hands on her hips. "But only if we're heavily compensated," she finished with an almost evil grin.

Eliot raised an eyebrow and glanced at Margo. "Sorry, but we're all broke college students here, darling."

"Please," Kady rolled her eyes. "I don't want anything from you." Without missing a beat, she closed the distance between herself and Julia, leaning down to whisper in her ear. Eliot watched with mild interest. Then, Julia blushed and cleared her throat. Oh. He glanced back at Margo again, who just waggled her eyebrows.

Shaking her head, Julia nodded, eyes flickering from Kady to Penny and back again. "Okay," she said. "Let's do this."

"What?" Eliot groaned, head falling to the side. "You're all seriously going to leave us in the dark?"

Kady just flipped him off.

/

Quentin lingered at the top of the stairs, shuffling his feet.

"Oh, come on," Margo sighed heavily. "You're quite literally the whole reason for all of this," she reached a hand out, wiggling her fingers.

Slowly, he descended the stairs and followed Margo to the couch. He sat between her and Eliot, who smiled at him, a bit sad but also a touch hopeful and he perked, feeling - well, hopeful, too. Apparently that was the right thing to do because Eliot's smile only grew, and, wow, he had a really nice smile. Flushing, Quentin turned away.

"We don't have an answer exactly," Alice began, placing one of the Fillory books in Quentin's lap. He blinked down at the pages, but didn't say anything. "But we almost forgot: there's a place in the books - a place in Fillory - that might - might help."

"It's the healing spring," Julia continued breezily. "But there's a lot of missing details."

Margo raised an eyebrow, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. "Yes. Go on?"

Alice flushed, smoothing a few wrinkles out of her skirt. "There's no mention of... memories being included in the healing spring's capabilities, but it's also never _not_ mentioned." She shrugged weakly. "So we think it might work."

"Okay," Eliot said, confident. "Do you have any idea where it is?"

Julia made a face, turning to the next page in the book. Quentin squinted at the words. "It's not something easily found, and the trip could take a while." She paused, frowning. "And there's a creature - apparently intelligent, like most in Fillory - who keeps watch over the spring. He'll want something in return for, you know."

"Okayyyy," Margo narrowed her eyes. "Like what?"

Kady sat on the table. "Something worth an entire - " she peered at Quentin " - how old are you?" She didn't let him answer, of course. "Something worth an entire however many years of memories we're missing here."

Eliot scrubbed a hand over his face. "So we don't know how he lost his memories, still, but..." he glanced at Quentin. "We might be able to get them back."

"I don't know," Alice admitted sadly. "But we have to go and - and try."

Margo shook her head. "We can't all just disappear for who knows how long."

"Fair enough," Eliot stood up and pulled Quentin up with him, the book slipping out of his lap. "I'll go with him."

Margo jumped up seconds later. "No way. You two aren't going alone."

"Bambi, darling," reaching out, he cupped her face. "We'll be fine. You guys stay - " he gestured at the book Alice had snatched up from the floor " - keep reading in case this doesn't work. Make sure Fogg doesn't wonder where we are." He cringed. "He can be an annoying old fucker."

Margo frowned, a deep, sullen thing. "El," she hissed lightly. "I don't think - "

"I'll go," Julia interrupted.

Eliot shook his head firmly. "You need to stay," he explained. "As long as you're here, Fogg will think Q is here by extension. There's no way you'd let him go off on his own." Turning toward Margo again, he kissed her on the lips softly. "Bambi, I'll be fine. Though... now it begs the question, how the fuck do we get back to Fillory?"

Turns out, Eliot's leftover God power from Ember was the answer. One touch to the pantry door and they were staring at Fillory again, all plush green grass and rabbits. Fillory, strangely, had a lot of rabbits.

"It's because they can - " Alice paused at Eliot's bored look and sighed. "I thought Quentin would've told you this," she muttered, waving her hand back and forth in the air. "Just - just go and - you've got the map, right?"

Eliot patted his back pocket. "Yes, ma'am."

"We're not sure where it is, but we at least marked all the forests, so... that's a start."

Once they were through the portal, Eliot sighed and stretched. "Fuck, the air here is - wow."

"Yeah," Quentin laughed, once, breathless with a shudder. "Shit."

Eliot smiled warmly and touched his back in what he hoped was an entirely friendly gesture, pulling the map out with his other hand. "Forgot this is basically like the first time for you," he cooed, a bit playful. "Must be overwhelming."

"Not really," Quentin licked his lips and glanced at the map with him. "It feels - good."

Eliot grinned just a bit, pointing at one of the forests. "Wonder if that goes for other first times, too," he teased because hey, he was still Eliot and -- Quentin flushed, stuttering - and Quentin was still Quentin. "We'll start with the closest one and work our way to the others."

Quentin was still blushing, but he no longer stumbled over his words, "sounds good, yeah."

So they started off to the first forest. Quentin didn't talk much - he looked very distracted by all the new scenery and honestly Eliot was content just watching him. He looked adorable, really, which was a thought for another day.

A day where Quentin, hopefully, had his memories back and actually remembered who the fuck Eliot was.

Shaking his head, he halted to a stop. "We should - uh - rest, drink some water."

Quentin stumbled a few extra steps before his brain seemed to catch up and he stopped. They sat down on a rock and Eliot pulled out the water from his bag when -- "shit," he whispered.

Quentin blinked, once. "What?" he asked, equally low.

"I think - " Eliot handed Quentin the water slowly " - I think we're being followed." Quentin's head jerked up, but Eliot quickly elbowed him in the side. "Don't," he hissed. "We have the advantage if they think we don't know yet."

Quentin uncapped the water. "Ri - right," he nodded, taking a sip. "So what do we do?"

Eliot chewed on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. "Fuck, I don't know."

"Well," he furrowed his brows, and once again Eliot's stupid, useless brain could only think one thing: adorable. He firmly shook the thought away. "Do you know, like, where they are? Just a rough estimate, even."

Eliot pursed his lips. "I think in the bushes to our left with the flowers."

Quentin smiled. "The pretty yellow ones?" he confirmed, probably just to be a dick.

Eliot rolled his eyes. "Yes, the pretty yellow ones," he replied dryly. "What's your plan?"

"Just aim some battle magic that way?"

Eliot almost laughed and took the water from Quentin. "Fuck, Q, it could be a child."

"Well," Quentin shrugged. "Better safe than sorry?" he squeaked, a little less confident. "It - uh - it would have to be you," he continued quickly. "I don't remember any of that stuff. I just got to the point I can make very small objects levitate for, like, two seconds."

Eliot leveled him with a look. "As true as that is - " and he knew that because he was the one who'd taught Quentin that spell (and gotten the joy of seeing the pure bliss on his face when he'd finally succeeded, even if just for a moment) " - I think you just don't want to do it, too."

"I - " Quentin smiled sheepishly. "Yeah?"

Sighing, Eliot gave the water back to Quentin and cleared his throat. "Please don't let me be the murderer of a child today," he muttered to the sky before turning quickly and aiming at the bush, and --

"Stop!" Margo jumped to her feet, hands in the air. "Fuck, El."

Eliot let out a deep breath, dropping his hands. "Bambi," he sighed in relief, then, " _Bambi_."

Margo smiled a bit sheepish and stepped out of the bushes, dusting off her pants. "Tada?"

"I told you - "

Margo rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her hips. "You told me you were going off in a strange world on your own with Mr. Can't Remember Shit and expected me to - what, be okay with it?" Stomping forward, she poked Eliot in the chest, which was a bit awkward with him sitting down and her standing up but somehow she still looked graceful as ever. "I don't fucking think so! I am coming, whether you like it or not."

Eliot sighed again, a bit softer, then -- "Bet you don't say  _that_ a lot."

"Oh, shut it," but she was grinning now, too, the tension gone from her shoulders.

Quentin looked between them slowly. "I, um, I'm glad you're coming with us," he said, almost a whisper.

Margo glanced at him, and Eliot was almost floored by the surprising softness in her voice as she asked, "really?" Eliot was weirdly happy the two people in his life he cared about most cared about each other, too, even with one currently...  _compromised_.

"Yeah," Quentin continued, smiling a bit. "I - uh - this might be, like, weird..."

Eliot smiled encouragingly.

"But like - I really do appreciate all the help and stuff and um. Julia is really nice. And stuff, but I always feel, like, most comfortable..." he hesitated, like he didn't think that was the right word but continued anyway, "around you two."

Margo pursed her lips - suppressing a smile, probably - and primly kissed the top of Quentin's head before stepping back. "Okay, that's enough feelings for one trip."

Eliot wrapped an arm around Quentin in a short, but tight hug. "Yeah, I think she's right. Ready to go?"

Quentin just nodded, a fondness in his eyes that almost - _almost_ \- made Eliot think of their Quentin, but not quite.


	24. swapping;

The first forest was a bust - it was beautiful, sure, and large, but there were no springs nevertheless ones with glowing water and a creature overlooking it. So with a sigh, Eliot pulled out the map and they started toward the next one. It wasn't too far, at least, and they arrived before it was too dark.

"Q," Margo said once they were halfway through the second forest, stepping over a root, "I hope you know how much I love you to be doing this because this is... annoying."

He glanced over at her, smiling almost shyly. "Thanks?"

"Bambi, love," reaching out, he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "you do realize we're going to have to spend the night here, right?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I know, El, I'm not stupid," but she frowned anyway.

Eliot grinned, kissing the top of her head. "Don't worry; I'll magic us up an amazing tent fit for the queen you are."

"As you should," she replied, jutting her chin in the air. Quentin laughed lightly.

/

They were about to stop for the day when -- "shit," Eliot halted to a stop, hand resting on a tree. "Guys, uh - "

Quentin joined his side, eyes widening when he saw the gorgeous sparkling water. "Is this - the thing?" he asked lamely.

"I don't know," Margo said, hands on her hips. "How about we try diving in and see if a magic creature stops us?"

Eliot made a face. "As tempting as that is, I'd rather - "

"How may I help you?"

Eliot startled, jumping back, and collided with Margo, who steadied him and rolled her eyes. Down by the water was -- "wait, wait," Eliot pulled away from Margo and squinted down at the figure. "You're just a human?"

"Irrelevant," the figure replied, but he raised an eyebrow anyway and Margo snickered quietly.

Shaking his head, Eliot started the climb down to the water. Quentin followed after, and Eliot stopped to help him, then, Margo.

"You wish to bathe in the spring, yes?" the figure asked once they were all by the water.

Margo crossed her arms primly. "Noooo," she drawled. "We're just - "

Eliot gently elbowed her. "Bambi," he warned lightly, and she rolled her eyes but shut up. "Yes, uh - sir?" When the figure didn't say anything, Eliot continued breezily. "My friend here - " reaching over, he grasped Quentin by the shoulder " - is having trouble with his memories and we were wondering if the spring could possibly... help with that?"

"Oh," the figure - man? - grinned and nodded. "Possibly. Depends."

Margo pursed her lips tightly. Eliot smiled politely. "Right, well, worth a try, huh?"

"But, um," Quentin shuffled his feet. "They said you - " he focused on the strange man " - require payment to use the spring?"

The man nodded again, a bit harder. "I do."

"Wonderful," Eliot muttered quietly. Then, he shook his head. "Okay, well, what do you want? Money?"

The man laughed sharply, and, okay, Eliot was not a fan of that. "Money is useless to me," he said with a huff. "I watch over the spring. I protect her. I wish for something... more," he smiled, showing off rows of surprisingly yellow teeth - Eliot bit back a comment about how he needed the spring more than them.

"How conveniently vague," Margo replied blandly. "Just spit it out - what do you want?"

The man blinked once slowly, then, focused on Eliot. He looked him up and down. "Your..." he grinned widely. "Your shade, yes, that would suffice."

Eliot thought surely he'd heard him wrong, but Margo's resulting glare meant he probably hadn't. They didn't know very much about shades, but Mayakovsky had mentioned them once during their time at Brakebills South. It did not sound like a thing a person wanted to give up. "What the fuck?" she stepped closer. "Firstly, no. Secondly, that's not even possible."

"Oh no," the man tilted his head thoughtfully. "I can do it."

Eliot shivered. "That's - great," he laughed awkwardly. "But, you see, uh - I kind of... like my shade?"

"That's the point," the man replied easily. "You wish to bring back his memories, prove it."

Quentin suddenly scrambled forward and grabbed his arm, squeezing tightly. "Eliot," he said, eyes wide. "I - I don't know what that is, but it sounds - bad. So... no, okay? We can - we can try something else." He glanced at Margo. "Right?"

"He's right, El," Margo grabbed his other arm, staring up at him intensely. "We can find another way."

Eliot swallowed thickly. "But - "

"No!" Margo interrupted, glaring. "This is stupid and I won't let you do it."

"You can spend the night," the man said. "Get some rest." He smiled. "The offer will still be here in the morning."

Margo turned her glare on him. "How fucking generous," she hissed before turning back to Eliot and shaking her head firmly. "Eliot, darling, let's - let's get some rest, okay? In the morning maybe your brain will be back to working again."

He smiled sadly, but nodded. "Okay," he agreed quietly.

"Thank God," Quentin whispered, and when Eliot turned to look at him he was suddenly, vividly aware of just how much he'd be willing to do - sacrifice - for him and the realization was downright terrifying.

/

"I'm going to sleep," Margo stood up from the campfire, holding a blanket around her shoulders. "Q, keep an eye on him."

Eliot rolled his eyes and leaned back. "I'm not going to do anything while you're sleeping, Margo."

"Sure," she replied, kicking him gently as she walked to her tent.

Then, it was just Quentin and Eliot and the roaring flames of the fire. Eliot watched quietly as Quentin scooted closer to the fire, placing his hands up to the flames. He smiled sadly and looked away. "I know - I know you don't remember anything," he said to the sky. "But can I confess something I probably shouldn't?"

Quentin hummed thoughtfully. "Yeah, of course."

"I think I was falling in love with you," he said, almost a whisper.

For a long, long moment, Quentin didn't reply and Eliot closed his eyes, cursing his own stupidity. Why would he say that? Well, because he was afraid probably that there was a real chance in the morning he might no longer be able to feel love anymore - or, well, anything. Not that Margo would let that happen, but... Eliot had his ways.

Then, Quentin laughed and okay, that wasn't what he'd been expecting but... at least he wasn't running away to his tent.

He opened his eyes and startled when he realized Quentin was staring at him. "I can't speak for, uh, me..." he shook his head. "But you really are great, Eliot, and I - I appreciate all this." Quentin sighed lightly. "I could see me... past me - fuck, you know what I mean - feeling the same way."

Eliot supposed that was the best he could hope so at the moment, huh? He smiled warmly.

"So... shades are what exactly?" Quentin asked, furrowing his brows.

Eliot looked away, shrugging. "I don't know much, admittedly, but basically your shade helps you... feel things."

"And..." Quentin pursed his lips. "You want to get back my memories because you love me, right?"

Eliot laughed airily. "Yeah," he muttered quietly. "Kind of."

"So that's totally idiotic, isn't it?" Quentin asked. Eliot glanced at him. "What's the point, then?"

Eliot swallowed thickly. "As much as... yes, I want you - the real you - back, it's not just for me." He smiled sadly. "I can be selfish, sure, but I'm not that selfish. Other people love you, too, Q, and you love them back. I have to consider that, too."

"That's..." Quentin smiled slowly. "That's sweet, and... kind of cowardly."

Eliot shrugged weakly, unable to rightfully defend himself. Because yeah, he wanted Quentin back, but he knew. He knew there was a chance Quentin didn't feel the same way despite everything, and, hey, if he didn't have to deal with the emotional backlash of that being possibly true...

"You love Margo, too, though," Quentin said. "Right?"

Eliot leveled him with a look. "Do you really have to ask?"

"See," leaning forward, Quentin rested his chin on his knees. "So this isn't just about you and me. It's a lot deeper than that. I - I know you're probably scared, but running away isn't the right thing to do." He smiled, small but sincere. "Besides, this is all for me, right? I should get to decide what we give up in order to retrieve my memories."

Eliot nodded slowly. "So no shade for memory swapping?" he asked, pursing his lips.

Quentin smiled wider. "Nope," he said, shaking his head firmly. "But we'll find another way. I can feel it."

"I think that's just the magic in the air," he replied quietly.

Quentin shrugged. "Maybe, but I don't think so."


	25. tricking;

"I'll do it," Margo was standing in front of the boys, dressed in a new outfit. Eliot wondered briefly where she'd been hiding it. Or maybe she used magic, who knew.

Blinking, he tore his eyes away from her outfit and looked up into her face, painted determined as always. "What?" he asked, genuinely confused. Quentin looked to be just as confused if not more. Poor boy.

"I'll trade my shade for your memories," she continued, like it was no big deal.

Quentin squeaked. Like a real, unfiltered squeak. "No, no," he said, scrambling to his feet.

Margo rolled her eyes and primly crossed her arms, tilting her head. "I'm my own woman, Q," she said, surprisingly firm. "I can do what I want, but thanks for your unwarranted opinion."

"B - but this is for me, right?" he asked, looking between the two magicians quickly. "And I don't want any of this happening."

Eliot stood up, too, and joined Margo's side, touching her back lightly. "He's right, Bambi. I..." he cleared her throat; apologizing was not his forte. "I'm sorry for saying what I did yesterday." Margo turned and peered up at him with her beautiful, big eyes that rightfully coined her the nickname Bambi. He smiled and leaned down, kissing her softly on the lips. "I never should've offered myself up like that. It was stupid, and no one will win with our stupid heroics."

Margo's bottom lip trembled just slightly, before she regained her composure and nodded curtly. "Good, you big idiot."

Letting out a relieved sigh, Quentin slumped back on a rock. "But... this means we have nothing to offer, huh?" he spoke softly; Eliot and Margo could barely hear him.

Pursing her lips tightly, Margo flicked some hair out of her face. "I'll still do it."

"Uh." Quentin quickly looked up.

Eliot cupped her face. "Margo, love, we already established that was a bad idea and would help no one."

"I know," she rolled her eyes. "But we can't just do nothing, and who knows." Margo squared her shoulders. "We could probably get a shade back, right?"

Eliot smirked, just barely. "I have a feeling a shade is no easier to get back than memories."

Shoulders slumping, Margo walked over and joined Quentin on a rock. She squirmed, obviously uncomfortable but didn't complain. Eliot knew she was trying her best. "So no shade," he said with a nod, squinting up at the sky. "What else could we possibly offer? We should have brought something."

"Maybe he'll have changed his mind?" Quentin suggested, half joking.

Eliot glanced at him, then, sighed and smiled. "Well, why don't we go and see, at least?"

/

The man was still there, though this time he introduced himself properly as the Guardian. Eliot really wanted to say something, but, well. After that, he stood in front of them, looking cool as a cucumber. "Have you made a decision?" he asked, eyeing Eliot closely. He almost looked amused by the whole thing.

Eliot took a shaky breath and shook his head firmly. "We can't offer something like that," he muttered.

The Guardian sighed lightly and nodded, once, stepping back. "Well, then, you have nothing for - "

"Wait!" Margo rushed forward, and Eliot's head snapped around to stare at her. "What about me?" she continued, and she did a good job of avoiding eye contact with Eliot and Quentin. "I'll trade my shade."

Quentin made a wounded noise low in his throat. "Margo," he whined.

Eliot put a hand up, stopping him. "Margo," he repeated. "We agreed - "

"Shut up!" she snapped, startling them both. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and then opened them again. "I want to do this." And the worst part of it all; she sounded sincere. Turning back to the Guardian, she cleared her throat. "So?"

Eliot didn't realize he was shaking - with fear, anger? he wasn't sure - until Quentin approached him and took his hand, squeezing. He needed to do something - say something - before Margo made a big, big mistake but his mouth suddenly felt unbelievably dry. And he was shaking, but he couldn't move.

She rarely sounded so vulnerable, especially in front of other people. Somehow, he hadn't realized just how much she had fallen for Quentin, too, even if not romantic. She loved him.

"You would really trade your shade for his memories?" the Guardian pursed his lips.

Margo nodded curtly, squaring her shoulders. She looked like a knight in that moment, wildly brave. Eliot felt something wet on his cheeks, and -- fuck, was he crying?

The Guardian stepped closer to her, and leaned in, closing his eyes. Eliot squeezed Quentin's hand tight, tight, tight. But then, he pulled away and grinned widely. "Wonderful!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "Your offer is sincere," he continued, turning away and taking a few steps. "You would truly give so much for him."

Margo narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, yeah," she said. "Don't rub it in my face."

"Perfect," the Guardian turned back around and settled his gaze on Quentin, fierce and unblinking. "You may go."

Quentin opened his mouth, then closed it. Eliot squeezed his shoulder and spoke for him, "did you - uh..." he gestured weakly to Margo, his heart squeezing.

"Depends," he replied, peering at Margo and, yup, he looked amused again - the fucker. "Do you feel any different?"

Margo glared at him. "No." Her face softened when she looked at Eliot. "I can still feel. Everything."

"So." Quentin finally found his voice. "What the fuck just happened?"

The Guardian sighed lightly. "It was a test, you dimwits." Then, "you, little one - " he pointed at Quentin, who flushed, equal parts embarrassed and angry " - get in the water."

Eliot wanted to say more, but when he looked the Guardian was gone, leaving behind nothing but confusion and. Relief, maybe. Margo doubled over. "Jesus fuck," she said, taking a few deep breaths.

He joined her side and rubbed her back. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

She looked up at him. "Shut up. I made the decision on my own."

"You did," Quentin said, nearing the water, "which isn't okay, by the way."

Margo straightened back up. "Don't be a dick and get in the water, Coldwater." Eliot stared at Quentin, almost longingly, and Margo rolled her eyes, elbowing him in the side. "Go join him, you big idiot."

He lingered for a moment longer.

"I'm serious," Margo sighed, placing a hand on his back and pushing. "Go."

Then, he joined Quentin. "Hey, if this works, you'll remember everything from when you, like, weren't yourself."

"Okay?" Quentin blinked slowly.

Eliot sighed heavily and looked away. "Which means I confessed to you while you weren't even yourself."

"Oh," Quentin bit his bottom lip. "Well, that does kinda suck, huh?"

Margo joined them finally, hands on her hips. "Shut up, boys, and Q?" He glanced at her. Margo grinned. "Good luck." Then, she pushed him back into the water with a loud splash, palms flat against his shoulders.

"Bambi," Eliot exclaimed, but he could hardly be mad through the laughter bubbling up from his throat. His laughter quickly died off when Quentin stood up in the water, droplets falling from his hair. His heart skipped a beat and he stepped closer to the water's edge. "Q?" he asked, scared of the answer.

Quentin reached up and pushed his hair out of his face. Then, looked up. Eliot could barely breathe. This was it.


	26. loving;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys it's (sadly) the end!! i was gonna wait to upload this final chap but... why not  
> i had a lot of fun w this and im excited to start some new stuff so!! stick around mwah

Eliot had started to like Quentin's smile early on, but right now his smile was nothing less than perfect, toothy and a bit lopsided. His heart skipped a beat. "Q?" he repeated, stepping closer. He could hear Margo taking a step forward, too, leaves crunching under her feet.

"El," Quentin breathed, and he smiled wider - if such a thing was even possible. Scrambling to the water's edge, he pounced on Eliot without missing a beat. He hugged him with a bubbling laugh. "Eliot, fuck, shit, I - "

Margo laughed, a sharp screech of a thing. "Jesus, Q," she said, crossing her arms primly. "Do you know anything other than a variety of curse words?"

He pulled back and stared up at Eliot, grinning. "Do you mind?"

Eliot laughed, once, and cupped the back of his neck, squeezing. "No," he said softly. Frankly, Quentin could probably do anything he wanted in that moment and Eliot wouldn't care. Because all that mattered were three things: he was here with them and safe, and he remembered.

/

It took a bit of figuring out, seeing as Eliot only had a sprinkle of leftover God power, but with some help from Quentin, who truly was a genius, they found a way back. They poured through the pantry door and not even five seconds later they were surrounded by Alice and Julia. Kady and Penny were nowhere to be seen, but Eliot wasn't really surprised.

Julia stared at Quentin for a long moment - almost too long - before he smiled in that way that was so ridiculously Quentin, and she broke, tears spilling down her face. Sobbing openly, she hugged Quentin even though he was still dripping wet.

Alice watched from a few feet away, wringing her hands nervously.

When they were done, Quentin squeezed Julia's shoulders and turned to her. "Thanks," he said, surprisingly sincere. Eliot felt weirdly proud. "On our way back, they - they told me how much you - all of you - helped. But you, especially."

Alice smiled tightly and nodded. "It - " she cleared her throat. "It was the least I could do."

"No," pulling away from Julia, he slowly approached her. "You could've ran."

Alice shrugged, a jerky, quick movement.

"You had no obligation to help me, but you did," Smiling softly, he wrapped his arms around her and she squeaked lightly, obviously surprised, but quickly returned the hug. "Thank you," he repeated in her ear, barely a whisper.

Her smile turned a bit more genuine as she rubbed his back. "You're welcome."

"Okay, ducklings!" Margo clapped her hands together. "Q and El here need some rest. Shoo."

Alice pulled away from the hug, squinting. "Ducklings?" she repeated quietly.

"Go, go," she said, gesturing them out of the small kitchen. "We can all have a proper celebration - later."

Julia pouted, but gave Quentin one last wave and disappeared from the kitchen along with Alice and Margo. Then, it was just Eliot and Quentin and the silence was deafening. Eliot smiled sheepishly. "So?"

"I - I have so much to say to you," Quentin turned, eyes soft and warm, "but I really am exhausted."

Eliot relaxed a bit, shoulders slumping. "Okay, okay, yeah. Uh. Nap first. Then, serious emotional talk. Good idea."

Laughing lightly, Quentin reached out and took his hand, squeezing once before letting go. "Everything's gonna be okay."

"Oh." Eliot's smile twitched. "Okay."

/

Eliot, of course, could not sleep. He dozed off a few times, but only for ten or fifteen minutes intervals. By the time it was morning, he was sitting up and staring at the ceiling. The knock at his door startled him enough the blanket slipped off his lap to the floor, but thankfully he was wearing sweatpants. Mostly because he'd been expecting a knock at his door. Taking a shaky breath, he pushed his hair back and cleared his throat.

"Come in!"

The door opened, but --

"Oh, Bambi," some of the tension slipped away - he wasn't sure if he was disappointed or thankful. "Did you need something?"

Walking in, she set a tray with food and orange juice over his lap. Eliot peered up at her, raising an eyebrow. "You can't cook," he said blandly. "Who's arm did you twist for this?"

Margo put a hand to her chest. "I am offended. I can totally cook." She smirked. "I make an effort not to." Eliot pursed his lips, suppressing a smile. "Also, if you must know, it was a joint effort from Julia and Alice."

"I never thought I'd have Alice Quinn of all people making me breakfast in bed," he muttered, smiling lightly.

Margo shrugged. "You lucky bastard," she joked, patting his head. "Now eat up. Because they made breakfast for Q, too, and I'm pretty sure as soon as he's done, he's storming in here. So."

Eliot suddenly wasn't very hungry. Again, he wasn't sure if it was nerves or excitement. Both, probably. "Okay."

/

Margo wasn't kidding; as soon as he was done eating, there was a knock at his door. Eliot shifted, placing the tray out of the way.

"Q, I know it's you," he called, a bit amused. "Come in."

The door opened, and sure enough it was Quentin this time. Eliot's heart squeezed at the sight of him in a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants, looking suddenly much younger. He chewed his bottom lip and shuffled inside, closing the door with his foot. "Hi," he greeted lamely.

"Come here," Eliot said, gesturing to the free spot on the bed he'd made just for Quentin.

Quentin nodded curtly and walked over, sitting down gingerly. "I - I don't know how to do this," he blurted.

"Shit," Eliot laughed airily. "Me too." Looking away, he sighed. "So you remember... everything, huh?"

Quentin nodded and reached out, placing a hand on Eliot's leg. Eliot startled just a bit. "I do," he confirmed softly. "And, uh, I - I feel the same way." Eliot peered at him, eyes wide and searching and hopeful. Quentin smiled, small but sincere. "I've never liked anyone... like this. I only ever had Julia after my folks, and - and I was happy with that. Because it was safe and comfortable, but. I think I want more..." he took a sharp breath, "if you're willing to give that."

Eliot blinked slowly. "This isn't a cruel joke, right?"

"Jesus." Quentin laughed lightly, looking away, then, back again. "It's not. This is, uh... me being honest." His nose scrunched up, and, God, it was so fucking cute. Eliot was whipped. "Which isn't easy, by the way, so... answer, please?"

Eliot laughed sharply and gathered Quentin's hand up in his, squeezing. "I've never had a real relationship before, either," he confessed, shrugging. "Lots of sex. Mostly because, like you said, it was easy and safe, but. Never anything real."

"I'm not hearing a yes or no," Quentin replied breezily, half teasing.

Eliot smiled warmly. "Yes. Shit. I want to give this - us - a try. Even if I am guaranteed to fuck things up."

"That's okay," Quentin said softly. "So am I."

Eliot bit his lip. "Can I - " he gestured weakly.

For a few seconds, Quentin just looked confused until finally understanding flashed across his face. Grinning, he shuffled closer to Eliot on the bed. "You can," he answered cheekily.

Eliot cupped his face and kissed him softly.

/

"I never thought I'd have all of this," Quentin confessed quietly. They were having a proper celebration now - a small, but no less grand party with just their friends. Eliot still wasn't used to that word encompassing more than just Margo. Alice walked out of the kitchen with her nose in the air and a tray of cookies, obviously proud of herself.

She had reason to be, too, her cookies were fucking amazing.

Not to mention even Kady and Penny had showed up.

"Yeah?" Eliot prompted, slinging an arm around his shoulder and tugging him closer.

Quentin rested his head against Eliot's chest. "Yeah," he confirmed softy. He smiled as he watched Margo flirt shamelessly with Alice, who seemed nervous and a little overwhelmed but also happy.

"Well, get used to it," Eliot sighed, kissing the top of his head, "because we're not going anywhere."


End file.
